


Changes

by impalagirl, wilddragonflying



Series: Roleplays [26]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Attempted Rape, Boypussy, Boypussy Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mpreg, Stiles loses his dick, a/b/o dynamics, dystopian au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:05:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4274577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalagirl/pseuds/impalagirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>This is it,</i> Stiles thought desperately, his eyes screwed shut as he cowered against a tree. <i>This is how I die.</i></p><p>It was all Scott's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a bit of a... tamer dystopia AU. The Rape/Non-Con warning is on there because there is a scene where Peter attempts to force himself on Stiles. He doesn't get far(he just has Stiles up against a wall and is inappropriately touching him).

_This is it,_ Stiles thought desperately, his eyes screwed shut as he cowered against a tree. _This is how I die._

It was all Scott's fault. They'd been screwing around on the edge of the forest for years, always daring each other to venture across the border but never daring to. Today was supposed to be no different, classic Scott-and-Stiles bonding time, until Scott had called to say that Allison had asked him to hang out and he couldn't very well say _no_ , so would it be cool if they rescheduled? Stiles, like the most epic best friend of awesomeness that he was, had agreed - and had proceeded to curse up a storm as soon as Scott ended the call. It was during this tirade that he had stepped over the border, and had been immediately assaulted by an enraged _roar_.

The wolf was upon him within moments, getting between Stiles and the border and blocking his escape. Stiles did the only thing that he could: he ran. And now he was cornered, a tree at his back and nothing but teeth, claws and glowing red eyes at his front.

So, yes, it was all Scott's fault, but Stiles wasn't going to live to make sure people understood that. His gravestone would read, 'Here lies Stiles Stilinski: absolute fucking moron', and it would be right.

However, the wolf seemed to have other plans. The teeth and claws receded, though the eyes remained-- when shifted, the eyes revealed things most other creatures couldn't imagine. As a result, most wolves spent their time with the eyes, at the very least, shifted.

What caused this particular wolf-- Alpha Derek Hale-- to pause, however, was not what he saw, but rather what his wolf sensed. The boy was painfully human, and absolutely _reeked _of fear. Beneath that was a scent so exquisite Derek wasn't sure he had the words for it. The scent called to him-- to his wolf-- and the thought of killing this trespasser, as was the custom, was suddenly abhorrent.__

Instead, Derek straightened, stalking forward and grasping the boy's chin in his hand, forcing him to look at Derek. "What is your name?" he demanded roughly.

"St--Stiles," he stammered, trying desperately not to pee in his pants. It was perhaps because of this determination that he asked, rather stupidly, "What's yours?"

"Derek," the alpha answered. "Derek Hale." He easily manipulated Stiles's-- what the hell _was_ a Stiles, anyway?-- head back and forth and up and down, looking him over carefully. "I'm not going to kill you," he announced suddenly after several moments of silence broken only by the human's pounding heart.

Stiles' jaw dropped. "What?" he asked, incredulous. " _Why_?"

"Because you will join my pack," Derek said simply. "Come. I will give you time to say your goodbyes."

"What?!" Stiles asked again, his voice climbing in pitch. "No! I will _not_ join your pack!"

"It's either that or death," Derek pointed out.

Stiles didn't even need to think. "Then kill me," he said firmly, his breath coming hard and fast. "I'd rather die than be like you."

It took everything Derek had to keep absolutely still, to not give away the way that his wolf had recoiled from Stiles's words. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, scenting the human. "Are you sure?" he asked without pulling away. "I can smell your father on you-- it's almost stronger than your own scent. Would you want to hurt him like that? At least, if you were a wolf, you'd be able to see him, to talk to him." That wasn't the usual case, but the Hale pack hadn't bitten anyone in quite some time-- Derek would be willing to make an exception for this case. "Not to mention all the bonuses of being a wolf. Speed, strength, the senses... It's a life like no other."

"You wouldn't let me see my father," Stiles spat, disgusted. "You just said that I'd have to say goodbye! And I'm willing to bet that my dad would rather have a dead son than a monster."

Derek pulled back, baring his teeth. "I am the Alpha," he snarled, and then forced himself to calm down; he would not win this argument if he were not calm. He thought carefully for a few moments-- he could continue trying to persuade the boy, but he had a feeling that would not work very well. And he really did not want to kill him; that, unfortunately, left only one option. "Very well. Let us take this matter to the Hunters, then. Do not run," he warned as he loosened his grip. "If you run, you forfeit your chance to make a decision on this matter. And I cannot guarantee what the outcome will be."

Stiles closed his eyes. He could run. He wouldn't get away from the Alpha, but it was still an option. The Alpha might kill him for daring to try, or there was a good chance that Stiles' body would reject the bite if it was administered during a struggle. But there was also a good chance that a bite would be successful, and Stiles had a feeling that if Derek had to turn him by force, he wouldn't get to say goodbye to his father. No matter what the Hunters decided, at least he would get to see his family one last time.

Stiles sighed, and opened his eyes. "I won't run," he said simply. He felt like he was already dead.

* * *

The walk to the edge of the Preserve was quiet; Derek had heard the truth in Stiles's promise, and hadn't felt the need to keep a hold of the human's arm. When they reached the edge of the preserve, he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket-- it was a simple one, used only by Derek to contact Victoria and Chris Argent, the head of the local Hunters. He used it now; he kept the call short and to the point, asking permission to escort the trespasser to the Town Hall to decide his fate. If the Argents were surprised he hadn't simply killed Stiles on the spot, they didn't show any sign of it over the phone. They gave him permission, and then hung up. "We are going to the Town Hall," he told Stiles. "The Argents-- and your father-- will meet us there."

"Can I call my dad?" Stiles asked, hating how small he sounded. He pulled his own cell from his pocket and showed it to Derek. "My best friend is dating Argent's daughter; I don't want him to find out from them."

Derek nodded. "Talk while we walk," he ordered. The sooner they could get this sorted out, the better.

Stiles didn't even get a chance to speak when his father answered the phone. "Stiles, what the hell is going on?" he demanded, and apparently word travelled fast; Derek couldn't have gotten off the phone with Argent more than a couple of minutes ago. "Where are you? Argent said--"

"I know what Argent said, Dad," Stiles interrupted him. He couldn't bear to hear the words again, and already there was a lump in his throat. "I'm in trouble. I fucked up so bad, Dad. The Alpha, he's offered to turn me. I said I'd rather let him kill me, but--"

"No." This time, it was his father's turn to interrupt. " _No_ , Stiles, that's not an option. If he'd rather turn you then we'll let him turn you. I will _not_ let him hurt you."

Stiles was too far gone to pretend that he didn't whimper into the phone. "But Dad, I don't want to be a monster," he whispered brokenly.

"Stiles," Stilinski murmured. "Son. We're gonna sort this out, okay? We're gonna fix this, one way or another. I'm on my way to the town hall right now."

Stiles knew he shouldn't keep his father on the phone while he was driving, but he had one more thing to say. "Scott's with Allison. Find him first, make sure he understands what's happening."

There was a crackle over the line as Stilinski sighed. "I will. I love you, Stiles."

"Love you too, Dad." Stiles' face was wet with tears by the time he hung up.

Derek, of course, heard everything-- but he didn't comment; he was not a part of that conversation and so it was not his place to speak. Instead, he simply led the way into the town of Beacon Hills and to the Town Hall, where Stiles's fate would be decided.

Chris and Victoria Argent were waiting for them on the steps, and Victoria checked Stiles over-- a formality, for as a trespasser, they couldn't protest if Stiles had been harmed. Beyond a few bruises, he wasn't. Chris nodded to Derek, who inclined his head as well. "Shall we begin?" he asked, mindful of the decent-sized crowd that had gathered outside of the building; humans could front all they wanted, but they had more in common with wolves than they were willing to admit.

The sheriff stepped up to stand beside Argent, his expression hard but his complexion pale. "Why don't you tell us what happened?" he asked, looking at Derek.

Derek exchanged a glance with Chris before answering. "You know that wolves mark our territory routinely-- as Alpha, I can tell when the border has been crossed. It is one of our best defenses. Earlier today, I felt the breach, and when I investigated, I found him," he said, gesturing to Stiles. "I could have killed him instantly, and been well within my rights according to the treaties, but I have chosen to offer him a choice: Death, or to be turned."

"And I chose death," Stiles snapped, clearly agitated.

The sheriff flinched, but had to ask, "Then why are we here?"

"Because if he wants to die, it will not be by my hand, nor any of my pack's," Derek said. "Rarely, an Alpha can... sense certain things about humans-- humans who would make good wolves." That bit was a lie, but none here would be able to tell. "It goes against every part of me to allow any wolf to kill him. Yet we are owed recompense for the trespassing."

"So you want to turn him." The sheriff looked at Chris. "That goes against their side of the treaty, too," he murmured, though he knew Derek would hear. "They promised to never bite one of our own."

Chris rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. "Those treaties are old, Sheriff," he said thoughtfully. He eyed Derek for a moment before asking, "Why not simply let him go? Stiles, I'm sure, did not mean to cross the border."

"As I said, Chris-- I cannot kill him, nor allow any wolf to kill him," Derek repeated. "As such, either he dies by your hands, or he is turned. Or-- since he seems to be so violently opposed to the idea of being a 'monster'-- someone else takes his place. I cannot, however, simply let this go. You and I both know well the burdens of command." Derek turned to the gathered crowd with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sure someone here has always wondered what it would be like to be a wolf-- this could be their chance."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then the crowd parted as someone forced their way through. He was red in the face, his eyes wild with excitement, and his name was Jackson Whittemore. "I'll do it!”

Stiles balked. "Oh, _hell_ no."

Derek ignored Stiles's reaction, instead focusing on the teenager who'd pushed his way forward. "What is your name?"

"Jackson. Jackson Whittemore."

"Read: 'Grade A douche'," Stiles supplied, but was once again ignored. 

Jackson lowered his gaze and bared his throat in an attempted show of submission. "Please, Alpha," he said lowly. "Choose me. I'll appreciate your gift way more than that loser Stilinski would."

Derek's eyes narrowed as he studied Jackson. Something about him seemed off, but Derek wasn't sure what. He easily jumped the steps, showing off just a little, and stalked forward, eyes flaring as he neared the teenager. Closer, he could smell something... cold underneath Jackson's natural scent. "How?" he demanded, getting right up in Jackson's space. "You attempt to submit, but you know nothing. How can you guarantee you would be the better wolf?"

"Because I want it," Jackson insisted, still not meeting Derek's gaze. "Stilinski said himself that he'd rather die. I'd work to be a good wolf. I'd do whatever you wanted." He hesitated. "I'd let _you_ do whatever you wanted."

Derek bared his teeth, showing his fangs. "And that is why you would _not_ be a good wolf," he announced. "A good packmate does not blindly follow their Alpha-- they question, they test. A pushover wolf is a dead wolf. That, or they become the bitch of the pack."

That had Jackson meeting Derek's eyes. "If that's what you want from me."

Derek growled. "Obviously you weren't listening. I don't want someone who'll bend over at the first opportunity. I want someone who'll be an equal member of the pack, and will contribute in a _meaningful_ way." He turned, dismissing the teenager as he walked back up to Chris. "One week," he said firmly. "Either Stiles accepts the Bite, you kill him, or you present me with someone else to take the Bite. _Not_ Whittemore.”

Chris glanced over to his wife, and then to the sheriff, looking for his opinion.

The sheriff didn't see what else he could do; he nodded. 

* * *

Scott didn't approach Stiles until the day before the deadline; he'd spent the time talking himself into it. He was still nervous when he walked into Stiles's room. "Hey, bro-- how are you doing?"

"I don't really know," Stiles admitted, offering Scott a weak smile. "I don't think I'm gonna know until tomorrow. What about you?"

Scott took a deep breath. "I've been... thinking," he admitted, and then barreled on before Stiles could make a joke: "I could take the Bite instead of you."

Stiles' jaw dropped. "You could what?" he asked, his voice shaking. "No. Absolutely not, Scott. God, why would you even think that?"

"Because I don't want you dead," Scott said frankly. "And you said Derek was willing to let you visit with your dad, maybe he'd let me do the same with you and Mom."

"But _why_?" Stiles pushed. "Why would you give up _everything_ for me? What about school? What about Allison?"

"Because you're my brother!" Scott cried. "Okay? You think I'd be any good at that stuff with you dead? You're refusing to take the Bite, so unless I do then the Alpha will demand your head. No one else is willing to take the Bite."

"Scott, this has nothing to do with you!" Stiles shouted back. "If you think I'm going to let you sacrifice yourself to save me then you don't know me at all!"

"And if you think I'm not going to do anything I can to save you, then _you're_ wrong," Scott countered hotly. "It's my fault you were in the Preserve and crossed the border to begin with!"

"I don't care!" Stiles snapped. "It's my mistake and I have to take responsibility for it!"

"And I'm not going to let you die!" What Scott said next was a low blow, but he didn't particularly care, not if it meant that Stiles would live. "You choose death, and I'll march across that border myself, I swear to God."

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his expression darkening. "Get out," he spat, and turned away so he wouldn't have to watch Scott leave.

* * *

Scott had taken his options away from him, and they both knew it. When the time came for a decision to be made, Derek stood tall and proud, alone opposite the Hunters and the sheriff, Stiles trapped between them, and demanded an answer to his ultimatum. Stiles glanced to his left, saw Scott poised to make a run for it, and cleared his throat.

"I'll accept the Bite."

Derek had been hoping for this, but he hadn't expected it; still, he hid his surprise well. He nodded to Stiles, holding out a hand. "Welcome."

"Stiles!" 

Stiles hesitated, turned, though he didn't want to. The sheriff was crying, torn between heartbreak and relief; he hadn't been privy to Stiles' decision until now. "It's okay, Dad," he said quietly, offering his father a weak smile. "I have to do this." And then he turned away, stepped forward, and took Derek's hand. 

* * *

Derek had led Stiles out of the town, but once they reached the Preserve, he stopped and turned to the teenager. "I'm not going to give you the Bite, not yet-- there's a room in the pack house that we use for wolves having trouble with their control. I will take you there, first. The rest of the Pack knows you are coming, and you'll have a chance to meet some of them first before I give you the Bite. After you've learned control, I'll speak with the Argents, and ask that you and your father be allowed to visit. Most likely it'll be at the border, and will be supervised-- but I won't separate you completely from your family."

"This isn't how you'd normally treat a trespasser," Stiles said, and it wasn't a question. "Why are you being so lenient?"

Derek studied Stiles for a long moment before saying, "Instinct. It's the most important thing to a wolf, and ignoring it never ends well." It was the closest he could get to the truth for now.

Stiles could tell Derek wasn't going to say any more, so he shrugged. "Lead the way, then."

* * *

Derek led the way through the Preserve, heading for the pack house-- it was huge, and Derek was debating whether or not to expand it again. "Here we are," he announced as the house came into view. A quick check revealed that just about the entire pack was waiting inside for them. "Ready?"

"Not really," Stiles said glumly, but he followed Derek into the house anyway.

Derek wanted to put a reassuring hand on Stiles's shoulder, but he didn't; he didn't know how Stiles would receive it. Boyd, as Derek's Second, was the first one to greet them, holding out a friendly hand to Stiles-- Boyd's mate, Erica, was right behind him. Behind them with Isaac Hale-Lahey, Derek's uncle Peter, and the rest of their pack. The Hale pack was one of the largest in the continental United States, if not _the_ largest-- they were certainly the oldest. As long as there had been werewolves, there had been a Hale pack-- sometimes under a different name, but always there nonetheless. 

Derek stuck close to Stiles, but not entirely invading his space-- simply acting as a buffer between the new packmate and the rest of the eager pack; it had been a few generations since the Hale pack had bitten someone, and everyone was curious about the new kid. They all wanted to know why he was special enough to convince their Alpha to spare his life. Derek gestured to Boyd, Erica, and Isaac-- his three most trusted Betas-- and introduced them to Stiles. "Boyd's the one with the blonde, Erica, hanging off of his arm, and the one with the curly hair and sharp cheekbones is Isaac."

Stiles nodded, his eyes on the floor. "Hi," he mumbled. 

Erica beamed. "He's _adorable_ ," she crooned. "I can see why you offered to turn him."

Isaac snickered, and Derek rolled his eyes. "Ignore her," he told Stiles. "Most of the time, anyway." He went through the rest of the introductions-- he didn't like the way that Peter was eyeing Stiles-- before resting his hand in between Stiles's shoulder blades. "Come on; it's time."

Stiles froze. "For the bite?" he asked weakly.

Derek nodded. "Yes." He gave Stiles a gentle push, nudging him forward. As he passed Boyd, he instructed, "Lock the door behind us; I'll stay with him." Lowering his voice, he added, "And have Isaac keep an eye on Peter. He's not to come anywhere near the door." Boyd nodded in understanding.

Stiles let Derek shepherd him into the room, but didn't turn until he heard the lock slam into place. "Can you just, bite my arm or something?"

"I could," Derek conceded. "It's not the traditional place, but yes. If that's where you want it."

"Well, where would you want to bite me?" Stiles asked.

"The usual place is on the side," Derek explained. "Just below the ribs."

"Does it make a difference?"

"As far as I am aware, no," Derek answered. "The Bite will take no matter where it is placed."

"Unless my body rejects it," Stiles pressed. "Do we know what causes that to happen?"

"Incompatible genes, as near as we've been able to tell. That was part of the reason I rejected Jackson-- his scent was... _wrong_. Part of being the Alpha-- I can tell that. And your scent..." Derek sighed. "It's difficult to explain. But the Bite will take."

"You're sure?" Stiles didn't even try to hide how disappointed he felt.

Derek nodded. "I would have killed you if I weren't."

Stiles closed his eyes. "Fine," he sighed. "Chomp away."

Derek hesitated, however, before taking Stiles's arm. "We don't expect you to like this," he said, struggling to explain. Despite being the Alpha, he was rarely good with words. "All we-- _I_ \-- ask is that you keep an open mind."

With that, he pushed Stiles's sleeve out of the way, and bit down.

* * *

When Stiles next opened his eyes, he was a werewolf. He knew this instinctively, in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that he could hear the heartbeats of everyone in the house, or that he could smell the toast someone was burning. He was on a bed, and he felt like hadn't moved in days; his throat, when he swallowed, was raw. When he rolled onto his side, his joints screaming in protest, he saw Derek. "How long has it been?" he croaked.

Derek was there with a glass of water; he handed it to Stiles as he answered. "Just over twelve hours."

Stiles downed half the water in one gulp, and then pulled back to inspect his arm. The bite was still visible, but it was fading even as he watched. Apparently his wolfy healing was kicking in. "So that's it?" he asked. "I'm... not human anymore."

"Not _homo sapiens_ , no," Derek agreed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a bus," Stiles answered flatly. "How am I supposed to feel?"

"That's about right," Derek said. "Every part of your body has been... well, enhanced. Even though you can now heal faster than any other creature on Earth, the first day is a bit achy."

"Were you bitten?" Stiles found himself asking, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"No-- but born wolves don't get the full effect until their first shift, usually just after they start puberty. I felt pretty much like I'd been hit by a truck the morning after my first full moon," Derek shared.

Stiles grimaced. "Well then you won't mind if I ask you to fuck off while I get some more sleep, then."

Derek couldn't help a small chuckle. "Of course. I'll keep an ear out and be back when you wake up."

Stiles was asleep before Derek had closed the door behind him.

* * *

Derek found Boyd, Erica, and Isaac keeping watch near the door; thankfully, Peter was nowhere nearby-- most likely asleep like everyone else is the pack. "We may have a slight problem," he said, gesturing for them to come closer.

"Did he reject the bite?" Erica asked, concerned.

Derek shook his head. "No-- but he's an Omega."

Erica's jaw dropped. "He's _what_?"

"Not like a lone wolf," Derek explained. "Omegas-- with a capital O, like I'm an Alpha with a capital A, an alpha who has a pack-- are extremely rare, and they're always male. They-- well. The change, or first shift, is especially hard on them; the same as it is on those who could inherit the Alpha position. No one knows what causes it, but Omegas can, well... They can give birth."

Isaac shuddered. "Like, but he can have assbabies?"

"That's _awesome_ ," Erica said, sounding excited.

Isaac shot her a withering look. "That's _gross_."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Not 'assbabies,'" he corrected. The change has given him a full reproductive system."

Now Isaac looked horrified. "He has a _vagina_?!"

Derek treated Isaac to a flat look. "Yes, he does. Otherwise, he is a normal were."

"Does that make him a girl?" Isaac asked, and Erica smacked him around the back of the head.

"No it doesn't," she snapped. "Right, Derek?"

Derek nodded. "Erica's right," he agreed. "Stiles is still, to all intents and purposes, male. He just has the ability to bear children."

"And a vagina," Isaac pressed. He sounded somewhere between disturbed and disgusted.

Erica hit him again. "Don't you be mean to the new kid," she told him fiercely. "It's not his fault, and he's probably going to be freaking out as it is."

"Exactly," Derek said. "He's not exactly happy about taking the Bite to begin with-- and I think someone might have used some sort of leverage to get him to agree to it."

Erica frowned at that. "What do you mean?"

"There was another boy who looked and smelled anxious, like he was waiting for something," Derek explained. "Him and Stiles are close; his scent is all over Stiles."

"Boyfriend, maybe?" Erica wondered.

Derek shook his head. "They didn't smell like shared sex."

Erica hummed thoughtfully. "Either way, he's not going to be happy, you're right."

"Yeah. I want you and Boyd to keep an eye on him-- you're mated, so once he has his first shift the scent of unmated Omega won't affect you two," Derek instructed.

"How will it affect the rest of us?" Isaac asked.

"He'll smell tempting," Derek explained; he was going off of what the previous Alpha, Talia, had told him of her great-uncle Clay. "Not overpowering, but still very noticeable. It'll stay like that until he's mated-- if he chooses to mate. Anyone who tries to force him will answer to me, got it?"

"Peter," all three betas said together.

"Exactly," Derek agreed. "But make a general announcement to the Pack, anyway, Boyd. If you look at Peter while doing it..."

Boyd nodded seriously, while Erica giggled. "He wouldn't get the hint if you smacked him on the head with it, baby."

"Then if he tries something, I'll make it very, _very_ obvious," Derek replied, deceptively calm. "Regardless, no one is to approach Stiles about mating or anything pertaining to that subject until he is completely comfortable as a wolf, am I clear?"

"Crystal clear," Isaac confirmed. He'd had a feeling taking on a bitten pack member would be more trouble than it was worth.

* * *

Stiles slept for another couple of hours, but when he started moving around once again, Derek headed for the door-- he got there just in time to hear a strangled, " _What the fuck!_ " from the direction of the bathroom he'd had installed in the basement. Setting the lock, Derek closed the door behind him and walked down the stairs, pausing at the bottom. "Stiles?" he called cautiously, every sense alert. Stiles was definitely in the bathroom, and his heartbeat was going through the roof.

" _Where has my dick gone_?!" Stiles shrieked. "What the motherfuck have you done with it, you _bastard_?"

_Oh._ Well, Talia had never mentioned a missing dick as being a side effect of an Omega. "I didn't do anything-- at least, not directly. When I gave you the Bite, you turned-- you're an Omega."

"I'm a _what_?!" The door slammed open to reveal an incredibly stressed-looking Stiles. His hair was everywhere, his eyes wild and his face flushed. "What the _fuck_ did you just say to me?!"

"Not like a lone wolf," Derek hurried to explain. "In terms of pack, you're a Beta-- but, well. Omegas, with a capital O, are _extremely_ rare. They, um." _Shit._ It hadn't been hard to explain this to Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, but faced with a stressed-out Stiles, it suddenly got one hell of a lot harder. "They can bear children."

" _What_!" If this had been a movie, the pitch of Stiles' voice would have shattered windows, but this was not a movie and Stiles was still minus one penis, and his breathing was starting to come very rapidly. "Oh my God, this isn't happening to me, this is a dream, it's a _nightmare_ , oh God, you should have picked Jackson, he _wanted_ to be the bitch of the pack, _fuck you_!"

" _Stiles_ ," Derek said, voice firm and resonating with the power of the Alpha as he walked towards Stiles, taking hold of his upper arms-- not tightly, but firm. "You being an Omega does _not_ mean you are the bitch of the pack. Omegas are _prized_ , they're _respected_ , and _no one_ would think to try to take advantage of you-- and if they do, I will tear them limb from limb, do you hear me?"

Stiles couldn't help but calm down; the authority in Derek's voice, along with something about his scent that was probably more Alpha mojo, was oddly soothing. "Don't touch me," he said weakly, even as he brought his hands up to hold onto Derek's arms. _God_ , he felt like he was going to cry. "You did this to me."

Derek loosened his grip obediently, though he didn't completely let go. He thought about pointing out that it was most likely something in Stiles's genes that did this, but that wouldn't help-- Stiles needed someone to blame, and in a way, Derek was that person; he had been the one to change him, after all. "I didn't know it would do this," he admitted-- that was the truth. He had known that the Bite would take, but he'd had no idea that Stiles would turn out to be an Omega. "I am sorry that this was a much bigger change than anyone anticipated."

"What do I do now?" Stiles asked softly. He couldn't look at Derek anymore, and he was shaking. "Apart from die a virgin."

Derek sighed softly, rubbing Stiles's shoulders absently as he thought. "For now, let's just work on control, okay? We've got two weeks until the next full moon. And I'll explain more to you about being an Omega-- my great-great-uncle Clay was one, and he left a bunch of journals; maybe I can hunt those down for you."

Stiles nodded, gaze flicking up to meet Derek's. "I guess I can live with that."

Derek offered Stiles what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Do you want to go upstairs now, or do you need some more time?"

"They all know, don't they?" Stiles asked, shivering.

"I told Boyd, Erica, and Isaac, and asked Boyd to tell everyone else, yes," Derek admitted. "I wanted them to be prepared."

"Great," Stiles sighed. "In that case, I'd like to stay here, please. Forever."

Derek bit back a smile. "Unfortunately, you do have to face them sometime," he pointed out. "We don't have anyone else who needs this room, but you will have to venture out occasionally. You'll need to learn to hunt and whatnot."

"Jesus Christ," Stiles groaned. "I hate you. Have I mentioned that before? I _hate_ you." Never mind that, for some reason, it really wasn't true.

Derek could hear the lie in Stiles's heartbeat, and he pointed it out. "Your heartbeat skips and speeds up when you lie," he said. "Everyone's does. Just so you know."

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "I _really_ don't like you," he qualified, and this time it wasn't a lie.

"Better," Derek said approvingly, even though his wolf whined at hearing that; he'd expected no less, and his wolf could go eat dirt for right now-- it wasn't the important thing at the moment.

Stiles huffed and pushed past Derek into the bedroom. "So how do we go about learning control?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure I grew claws for a second back there; I nearly tore up my complete _lack_ of junk."

"The biggest thing is you need to try to find an anchor-- something to help you control the shift," Derek explained. "For me, it's my pack-- but everyone's is different. Find something or someone you trust completely, and think of that thing or person while trying to shift."

"Okay. Okay, I can do that." It seemed simple enough. There was no one Stiles trusted more than his father; he would be a great anchor.

"I hate to keep repeating myself, but it's as much instinct as it is anything else," Derek said, watching Stiles closely. "Think about the change, and follow your instincts. Don't try to limit the shift; just let it come."

Stiles closed his eyes, and tried to do what Derek said. Nothing happened. Nothing happened for a long time, until Stiles started thinking about what he was trying to achieve, about the Bite and what it had done to him. The rage, the desperation he'd felt in the bathroom when he'd realised the changes to his body came flooding back, and before he could stop it he was roaring in Derek's face, claws and fangs out and eyes burning yellow.

Derek had watched the concentration morph to frustration, and he'd realized what was going to happen-- and he was grateful that _he_ was the one down here; it was easy enough to snarl back at Stiles, flash his own eyes and take a step forward, right into Stiles's face, every inch of him projecting dominance without aggression; he'd had a lot of practice, thanks to Peter's unfortunate habit of needling Derek until he snapped.

Stiles didn't rise to the challenge, but he didn't back down either. He stood his ground, his teeth bared and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Blood trickled between his fingers but he barely felt the pain. 

Derek growled, low in the back of his throat-- he remembered that was another thing about Omegas, that they were very reluctant to submit, even to their Alpha; Stiles, of course, had more reason than most to be reluctant. Forcing him would do no good, but neither could Derek back down. "Do you wish to fight me?" he asked, baring his own teeth and letting the shift crawl over him.

Well, if Derek was offering... "Maybe," he snarled back, gnashing his teeth.

Derek took another step forward; he and Stiles were chest-to-chest, now. "You either fight, or you back down," he informed Stiles. "I won't force you to submit-- but I _am_ your Alpha, at least for now. Challenge me, and I _will_ put you in your place."

Things were very, very tense for a few beats, both wolves squaring up to each other - until Stiles took a step back. He reigned in the claws and the fangs, dragging his wolf back under his control, and when he looked up again his eyes were clear, his chest heaving. "Sorry," he panted, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

Derek pushed back his own shift, nodding. "It's all right; I meant what I said, though-- I won't force you to submit to me. If you ever fully submit, then I'll gladly accept it. But you have nothing to be ashamed of. You've got more reason than most wolves do for wanting to take a strip out of my hide."

"What does that mean?" Stiles asked. "'Fully submit'? Like, bend over?"

"Not everything is about sex," Derek said dryly. "We're werewolves, not cavemen. When I say 'fully submit,' I mean you completely acknowledge my authority, and you accept me as your Alpha and this as your pack-- To use an archaic example, think of knights pledging their service to a king or lord. It's not necessarily a physical thing, but more of a psychological one."

"I don't think so," Stiles spat instantly. "You're not the boss of me."

Derek held up his hands. "Didn't I just say that I wasn't going to force you to submit?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "If I did, it's not worth anything. And when we introduce you to the rest of the pack, watch them. Do they look like they're my slaves, or employees, or anything like that? They trust me to lead them-- but that does not mean that they follow blindly. Another reason why I wouldn't have accepted Jackson, even if he hadn't smelled wrong."

Stiles sighed. "So what if I never submit?" he asked. "What will that mean?"

"Unless you completely reject me and the pack, that means you're essentially on trial. A wolf who is considering a new pack-- not quite a complete omega, as in lone wolf, but not a full Beta, either. If you do reject me and the pack," Derek warned, "then I cannot let you stay-- you will be chased from my territory, and left to fend for yourself."

"And that would be bad," Stiles surmised. "So, it's either submit, or be constantly on the edge of rejection. Great."

Derek shook his head. "The pack isn't the one who rejects the wolf on trial," he explained. "Not unless you do something incredibly stupid, like attempt to kill a packmate. You are the one in control of that decision."

Stiles made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. That seemed more than reasonable, as much as he hated to admit it. "I guess I'll try not to attack anyone, then."

Derek shrugged one shoulder. "It's normal, even for a pack with a trial wolf, for some fighting to happen," he pointed out. "Part of working out any potential kinks in the pack dynamic. Like I said, just because you're an Omega doesn't mean you're supposed to act like a doormat; go ahead and stand up for yourself. And if anything happens, you can talk to just about anyone in the pack if you need to."

"I'll see how I feel about that when I've met them," Stiles said darkly. "Speaking of, how many of them are listening in right now?" 

Derek tuned in his own hearing-- it sounded like Erica and Isaac were still by the door, and the rest of the pack was moving through the house. "Not sure; generally, though, eavesdropping isn't as big of a problem as you might think in a house full of werewolves."

"Yeah, right," Stiles scoffed. 

"Okay, they're probably all wondering what happened when you roared," Derek admitted. "This room isn't exactly soundproof, but it's better than the rest of the house. But just about everyone knows better than to ask you-- except for the cubs and Peter, but Peter's a dick and the cubs don't really know any better.”

Stiles perked up suddenly. "We have cubs?" he asked. "I've never seen a baby werewolf."

Derek refrained from pointing out how Stiles had just included himself in the pack. "Yes, we do," he agreed. "Four of them, at the moment-- Lysa's pregnant, though, and about ready to pop. Apparently it's twins this time."

"When you say cubs," Stiles began, "do you mean literal cubs? Are they born as wolves?"

Yes," Derek answered, a little amused. "The mother shifts fully about a month before the cubs are born, and they spend the first year or so as puppies before learning to shift."

"Can I do that, too?" Stiles asked. "Like, turn into a wolf?"

"Once you've got enough control, yes," Derek said. "It's harder for bitten wolves, but not impossible. But you need a good, solid anchor-- something that is _not_ simply anger or frustration."

Stiles flushed. "I tried to use my dad," he confessed. "I just... got annoyed."

"That's fine," Derek said understandingly. "It's not going to be perfect, most likely not for a while. It'll take some time to really get a hold of your anchor."

"How long did it take you?"

Derek thought about it. "Quite a while, actually. My older sister, Laura, and I were both born with the potential to inherit the Alpha power-- after our first full moon after puberty, I lost my previous anchor. It had been shaky, anyway. Eventually, I found a new one in my pack, and it still works. I think it took a year and a half or so before it really settled."

"What happened to your first anchor?" Stiles pressed.

Derek's eyes flashed-- not in anger, but in pain. "Laura was my twin; we were each other's anchors. Our first full moon running with the adults, she got caught in a hunter's trap. It cut her in half."

Stiles' jaw went slack. He felt like he'd been doused in ice cold water. "I'm so sorry," he breathed. 

Derek nodded once, jerkily-- it still hurt, even over a decade and a half later. "You'll find an anchor eventually," he said in lieu of anything else to say.

"I'm sure," Stiles agreed. He felt like he'd crossed a line, and he wasn't sure how to get back to safer territory.

Derek took a deep breath before gesturing towards the stairs. "It's almost time for breakfast," he said. "If you want, I can ask Erica to bring you down something."

"Okay," Stiles said awkwardly, feeling his wolf whine at the way Derek was pulling away. If Stiles hadn't officially accepted Derek as his Alpha, why was his wolf so dependent on him? "Or I could come with you."

Derek nodded. "Or that," he agreed. "Come on; I hear Max rooting through the fridge. If you want something to drink that's _not_ water, we should go."

Stiles managed a small smile as he followed Derek from the room.

* * *

Meeting the pack for the second time was at once much easier and much more overwhelming. Erica and Boyd seemed to be acting as bodyguards, shooting warning looks at anyone who reacted too obviously to his Omega scent, and even though Isaac was keeping his distance he was doing so in a way that somehow seemed protective. Still, the sounds and the smells that came with a huge pack were even more forceful when he was actually in the same room as them, and it wasn't long until he had to sit down because his head was spinning.

Derek hovered for a little while, but was ultimately dragged away when Erica suggested that maybe they both should eat something; he seemed almost nervous as he promised to be back soon with some toast, and exchanged a meaningful look with Boyd that Stiles did not understand. Even Boyd was distracted eventually though, and that was when a pleasant-looking older man approached Stiles. He had a nice smile on his face and he smelled a bit like Derek, but everyone here did. Stiles offered him a small smile of his own.

"So, you're the one who turned our dear Alpha's head," he said with a smile. "My name is Peter-- Peter Hale. I am Derek's uncle." He offered Stiles his hand.

Stiles took Peter's hand and shook it. "I'm Stiles, but I guess you already knew that," he said with a soft laugh. "What do you mean, I've turned Derek's head?"

"Derek's killed trespassers before," Peter told him-- though he neglected to say that those were rogue omegas who refused to simply run. "Makes you wonder why he spared you."

"He said his instincts told him I'd make a good wolf," Stiles supplied, frowning. "I wish his instincts had told him what _kind_ of wolf, though."

"To be fair, Omegas such as yourself _are_ incredibly rare," Peter pointed out. "No member of this pack has encountered one before."

Stiles nodded. "Derek said his great-great-uncle was the last," he said. "It just would have been nice to have some warning. I would've liked to say goodbye to it, y'know?"

"'It'?" Peter asked curiously.

"My dick," Stiles sighed miserably. "It's gone."

_Oh_. Peter tried to rein in his sudden arousal at the thought of what that meant, but not quickly enough; Derek was abruptly inserting himself between Stiles and Peter, sliding a plate full of breakfast food in front of Stiles before stepping into Peter, forcing the Beta back a step. "Peter," he said, his voice purposefully friendly. "I see you've met the newest member of the pack."

Peter turned his head, baring his throat to Derek as he spoke. "I have; he seems... nice."

Derek's eyes narrowed, and neither spoke for a long moment-- a long, silent moment; even the pups had gone completely still with the sudden tension in the room. Eventually, Derek reached up and laid two fingers against Peter's pulse, just the tips of his claws resting over the thin skin. Peter took the warning for what it was, sidling away quickly without looking back. Derek watched him go, making sure he wasn't coming back, before sitting down at the table, beside Stiles. It wasn't until he reached for his own plate of food that the rest of the pack relaxed into conversation once more.

"What the hell was that about?" Stiles demanded, annoyed. "He was just being friendly."

"That," Derek said, reaching for the salt, "was Peter. He's... not exactly a good person."

"Well he's the first person who's spoken to me like I'm not some kind of freak," Stiles said, holding his hand out for the salt once Derek was done. "Why is he a bad person?"

Derek handed the salt over without protest, but didn't get a chance to answer before Lysa did. "Because he's a bit touched in the head."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Not literally," he clarified. "But there's always been something a little off about him."

Stiles shrugged. "He seemed nice enough to me."

"Just be wary around him," Derek cautioned.

"Fine," Stiles sighed. "Anyone else I need to avoid?"

"Yeah, Lysa," Derek said, tossing a slight smirk at the wolf in question, who promptly launched a spoonful of egg at him.

"Hey, rude!" she admonished, though she was smiling as she did so; Stiles couldn't help but smile, too. 

Lysa sobered quickly, however; she had an announcement to make. "I'm going to be shifting today," she told the pack, her mate's arm around her shoulders. They both looked happy, and Derek was the first to respond.

"That's great! Are you going to use the den again, or do you think you'll stay in the house?"

"I'm not sure," Lysa admitted. "But I think I'll stay closer this time. That feels like the right thing to do."

"What's the den?" Stiles asked, curious. "Is it a literal den?"

Lysa nodded. "Yes; there are a few scattered around the pack territory. I used one with my last pregnancy, but this time I think I'll stick around the house."

"Which will make it easier for me to pamper you; it was horrible hauling all those buckets of water and soap and brushes out to the den," her mate, Mark, teased.

Stiles laughed along with the others, feeling a stirring of hope within himself. Maybe the arrival of Lysa's cubs would trigger a shift in the pack's - and Derek's - attentions; Stiles didn't know how much longer he could take being the shiny new toy.

* * *

Despite Derek's warning, Stiles still spent time with Peter-- not that Derek could do anything about that. He'd already sworn that he wasn't going to force anything on Stiles. Instead, Derek simply spent as much time as he could with Stiles; mostly, they were still working on Stiles's control, but occasionally Derek was able to coax the new wolf into talking about slightly-more-personal things. He always felt ridiculously proud when that happened.

Stiles's first full moon was... less than successful, to say the least. Derek and Boyd had ended up having to herd him into the shed used for those wolves close to losing themselves; Derek had stayed with Stiles and left Boyd and Erica to keep an eye on the rest of the pack. The day after, Peter approached Stiles while Derek was away. "So, last night was fun," he commented.

Stiles flushed. "I wouldn't know," he mumbled. "I spent most of it locked up in a shed."

Peter shook his head disapprovingly. "Now, I know it's tradition to restrain wolves who are still getting the hang of things, but I've never agreed with that," he said-- and it wasn't strictly a lie. "They should be distracted, given something else to focus on."

"Like what?" Stiles asked, interested.

Peter pretended to think it over. "Well, what interests most wolves: running, hunting... fucking."

Stiles' blush deepened. "I think I'd rather be in the shed."

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I would imagine every wolf's favorite thing would be different," he said placatingly. "Why don't we go for a run sometime?"

Stiles had to admit that the offer was appealing. "What if I get caught up in it, lose control again?"

"We can bring Boyd or another wolf, if you want. But I'm fairly certain I can handle it if you do lose control. We heal fast, remember?"

Stiles turned the thought over in his head for a few moments, before he nodded. "I trust you," he said.

Peter just barely kept himself from smirking at that.

* * *

Peter became a regular companion of Stiles' after that, and the more Stiles talked to him, the more he avoided Derek. He was growing to resent the Alpha, for what he'd done to him and for how he was treating him - like he was glass, or a child, depending on the day. It didn't help that Derek kept seeking him out, apparently just to belittle him, to warn him away from Peter for the millionth time like it was _Peter_ who was bad for him and not Derek. Derek, who Stiles was starting to suspect only valued him for his Omega status. Peter had told him that packs who could boast the presence of an Omega within their ranks were esteemed above the rest.

Still, Stiles had been granted some peace lately. Lysa's pups had been born a few days ago, which meant that Derek had been busy, but Stiles was just getting used to the quiet when the devil himself appeared. Stiles sighed. "What do you want?" he asked sharply. 

Derek, to be frank, wasn't surprised by the hostility in Stiles's voice. "I just wanted to talk with you about the next full moon," he said, careful to keep his voice neutral. "It's less than a week away."

For some reason, Stiles hadn't been expecting that. "What about it?"

"How does your control feel?" Derek asked. "Do you think you can run with the rest of the pack? You won't have to worry about the pups; Lysa's keeping them with her in the pack house."

Stiles shrugged. He'd been working on his control with Peter, and he'd been getting better, but his wolf always felt closer to the surface when Derek was around. "I don't know," he answered honestly.

Well at least he was telling the truth, Derek mused. "All right. We can always use the shed again, if we need to."

Stiles sighed. "Is locking me up really the only option?" he asked waspishly. "Surely I'm not going to learn if you keep isolating me like that."

"Then what do you suggest?" Derek asked with a raised eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "This has always worked before, for generations. Nothing else is any more effective. And you're not totally isolated-- I stayed with you, as would Boyd, Erica, Isaac, or even Peter--" Derek made a face when he said his uncle's name; he still didn't approve of their friendship for a multitude of reasons (most of them tracing back to one single source) "-- if you asked them."

"Peter wouldn't babysit me," Stiles said confidently. "Peter would let me run."

"Let you run?" Derek echoed, looking at Stiles in shock. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that could be, for you and the rest of the pack?"

"Peter wouldn't let me hurt anyone!" Stiles insisted. "He's strong, way stronger than me, and he'd stop me before anything happened."

"So you're gonna place all your trust on one wolf?" Derek said incredulously. "If you do that, at least put it in _yourself_."

"I do trust myself," Stiles snapped. "It's _you_ I don't trust."

Derek flinched like Stiles had slapped him. He took a deep breath, ignored the way his wolf whined, and made himself speak calmly. "Very well. If you insist on running with the rest of the pack, then do it. But I will be keeping a very close eye on you and Peter both." With that, he turned on his heel and marched away; if Stiles detested his company so much, he wasn't going to force it on the Omega.

Derek's wolf wasn't alone in its whining. Stiles felt considerably shaken, but there was nothing he could do. He'd been well within his rights to make his point and stand his ground... hadn't he? Suddenly he wasn't so sure anymore.

* * *

Derek avoided Stiles as much as possible over the next few days until the full moon-- Stiles had made his opinion of Derek perfectly clear, and Derek wasn't completely obtuse. The night or the full moon, Derek waited outside with the rest of the pack; Boyd, Erica, Isaac, and one or two of the other Betas stood behind him and the rest of the pack. When Stiles emerged from the house, Peter beside him, Derek asked, "Which is it?" He didn't bother clarifying.

"I'll go to the shed," Stiles answered. Beside him, Peter did a double-take, and Stiles didn't blame him. He'd let Peter talk him into running with the rest of the pack, or at least with Peter, but his wolf had gone wild as soon as it caught Derek's scent and Stiles knew that he wouldn't be able to maintain a shred of control tonight.

Derek's expression softened. "Do you want someone to stay with you?"

Stiles nodded. Peter wasn't going to like it, but he knew that his wolf would break his neck trying to get to Derek if he wasn't close by. "Will you?" he asked quietly.

Derek nodded. "Of course." He glanced to Boyd with a raised eyebrow, and his Second just nodded in understanding. Derek turned back to Stiles and Peter. "Ready?"

Stiles sighed. "Ready."

* * *

Derek led Stiles to the shed while the rest of the pack headed for the woods. He could hear them, but focused on Stiles; he made sure that the padding on the cuffs didn't need replacing and that the wolfsbane-infused leather still held(getting a pair of cuffs that would only weaken but not actually hurt a wolf had cost Derek a pretty penny, but had been completely worth it) before helping Stiles into them. "Depending on how this moon goes," Derek started as he finished with the first cuff, testing the tightness, "you might not need these anymore. We may just have to run a bit away from the rest of the pack." Introducing a new Beta at any time of the month was one thing, but the full moon was when the wolf was closest to the surface, and when just about all bets were off. Then, even if the Beta had been living with the pack for a few months, as Stiles had, the other wolves might get aggressive, might decide to test the mettle of the new packmate.

"I already feel like I'm not in control," Stiles confessed awkwardly, and it was true; he was practically shaking with it. The Alpha's touch on his wrists had helped some, but his wolf only doubled its efforts once Derek let go. "Is it supposed to be this bad?"

Derek frowned. "No, it shouldn't," he said thoughtfully; if he strained his hearing, he could pick up the rest of the pack. They were still chatting amongst each other, and even Derek didn't feel the urgent need to shift just yet. "What are you feeling? Is your wolf pulling you anywhere?"

Stiles coloured and looked away. "To you," he admitted, the words barely more than a whisper. "It's pulling me to you."

Derek couldn't help the bright flare of hope at Stiles's admission, but he wrangled it into submission. He had to focus on the wolf in front of him. The Alpha reached out, laying a hand against Stiles's neck tentatively. "Does that help?" he asked, ready to pull away if Stiles asked him to.

Stiles tried to resist it, but he melted into Derek's touch as soon as it was given, his wolf curling up inside him and sighing in contentment. "Yeah," Stiles breathed as his eyes slid closed. 

Derek hesitated for only a moment before quickly undoing the cuffs. "Come here, then," he said gently, arms slightly open.

His wolf whined pitifully, but Stiles made himself hold back, his eyes wide. "Are you sure?"

Derek nodded. "I don't think you'll do anything," he said reassuringly. "If this helps, then I won't restrain you."

Stiles hesitated for only a second more before giving in and all but falling into Derek's arms. Derek grunted with the impact; he carefully lowered them to the ground so they'd both be a bit more comfortable. His own wolf felt content now, with their mate in his arms. Derek carefully brought one hand up to rub Stiles's back, unsure of just what the other wolf would allow. Surrounded by the scent of his Alpha, Stiles was in no position to protest against any comfort Derek was willing to offer. On the contrary, he soon found himself nuzzling his face into the crook of Derek's neck, instinctively scenting him and sighing as the action bled the remaining tension from his wolf. They stayed like that for some time, until Derek could feel the moon high in the sky. He was loathe to disturb the peace between them, but he asked, "Do you want to try shifting?"

"Huh?" Stiles asked, drowsy as he pulled back to look at Derek through yellow eyes. "Like, a full shift?"

Derek shrugged. "If you think you can. I just meant a general shift."

"Oh." Stiles could see Derek's point. The shift was closer than ever with the moon up, but actually reaching for it, _choosing_ the shift, would be difficult. "I can try," he offered. "I feel like I'm in control."

"I'm right here," Derek said, offering Stiles an encouraging smile. "Just try."

Stiles closed his eyes and reached within himself, just like he had so many times before. His wolf was easier to find this time, but harder to wrangle; it was excited and frustrated and wanted out. This had to happen on Stiles' terms, though, so he was patient; he coaxed his wolf under his control, leashed it, and let it loose. He opened his eyes, and when he spoke, it was through a mouthful of fangs. "Did it work?"

Derek had watched Stiles shift, fascinated-- it had been a clear struggle, but the end result was amazing. "Yeah," Derek said, having to clear his throat. "It worked."

Stiles' grin was decidedly more feral than usual, but he felt great. "That's the first time I've managed it," he announced, delighted.

Derek couldn't help but grin as well. "That's great! Did you use an anchor?" he asked curiously.Stiles' heartbeat quickened. "I don't know if it was an anchor," he answered carefully. "I'm not sure if it'd work again. But... I was thinking about something, definitely."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Derek reassured Stiles.

Stiles nodded, relieved. There was no way Derek would take kindly to knowing that _he_ had been used as Stiles' anchor.

"If you think you've got the beginnings of an anchor, then you might be able to run with the rest of the pack by the next full moon," Derek said with a smile. "You're doing great, Stiles."

Stiles wished he shared the Alpha’s confidence.

* * *

Stiles didn't see Peter until two days after the full moon. He'd spent the day before alone, recovering from the ache the moon still left in his bones and avoiding Derek, but eventually hunger and loneliness drove him from his room. There were a few people milling about, and Stiles smiled and nodded and thanked them for their congratulations on his achieving the shift, but he didn't stop to chat for too long. He was looking for someone, looking for _Derek_ , his wolf restless and eager for him to keep moving. When he came across Peter, however, he froze. He'd let Peter down the night of the full moon, humiliated him, and Stiles knew he couldn't run from that.

"Hey," he said tentatively when Peter didn't look at him. "How's it going?"

Peter didn't look up from his newspaper. "Fairly well, I suppose," he said, voice neutral. He couldn't deny that he was more than a little miffed that Stiles had chosen to spend the full moon with Derek instead of with him-- he'd really thought that they'd been making some progress on that front. Well, time to step things up. "Yourself?"

Stiles didn't need werewolf senses to know that Peter was not happy. He shuffled his feet awkwardly and looked at the floor. "I'm good."

"Mhm." Peter idly flipped a page. "That's good." After another moment of uncomfortable silence, Peter finally glanced up at Stiles. "So. I hear you've got the start of an anchor."

Stiles flushed. Was _nothing_ private in a pack? "Umm, I think so," he offered. "I'm not sure."

"Well, that's good," Peter said, setting his paper down. "Are you busy? Perhaps we could go... practice."

"Practice?" Stiles repeated. "Sure, we can do that. I don't know if I'll be able to do it again, though."

"Well that's what practice is for," Peter said, as if it was obvious. "Come on; we can go to the backyard. Nowhere near as crowded."

Stiles could do little but follow. 

* * *

Derek was grinning when he hung up the phone-- hopefully, this would make things a bit easier on the pack, and Stiles especially. The Alpha left his study, and a few questioned Betas later told him that Peter and Stiles were in the backyard, apparently practicing Stiles's shifting. Derek tried to ignore the way his wolf whined in disappointment and hurt that Stiles had gone to Peter; Stiles may be his mate, but he didn't know that, and Derek wasn't going to be the one to tell him about it anytime soon. Stiles hadn't really stopped being hostile towards him yet.

Derek, however, was going to be hostile starting right about now-- the sight that greeted him when he stepped through the back door just about made his blood boil and his wolf snarl.

Peter had Stiles pressed up against the wall of the house, Stiles' wrists in his hands and his mouth pressed against Stiles' neck. Stiles himself was struggling, fighting against Peter's hold and snarling at him to get off, but Peter wasn't listening. If anything, Stiles' desperate attempts to get away were exciting Peter further, and Derek saw the moment Stiles worked that out. He also saw Stiles bring his knee up hard against Peter's crotch.

Even for a werewolf, a knee to the balls _hurt_ , and Peter staggered backwards, face twisting into a snarl, and Derek leapt forward, grabbing Peter by the back of the neck and throwing him across the yard, roaring. Peter didn't back down, clambering to his feet and snarling a challenge which Derek accepted.

The fight was brief but ferocious, ending with Derek hurling Peter into a tree hard enough that every wolf nearby heard ribs break. When Peter looked like he was thinking about attempting to continue, Derek charged, shifting fully mid-leap, and Peter turned tail and ran off into the forest to lick his wounds. Derek stayed where he was, ears pricked forward, making sure that Peter wasn't trying to turn back.

Stiles had done nothing but stand there, but he was breathing hard by the time the confrontation came to an end. There was a few beats of silence, save for the way Stiles' heart was hammering in his ears, and then, "What the _fuck_ was that?!"

Derek shifted back, uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was now naked-- thankfully Boyd was ready with a pair of shorts. Derek took them and pulled them on before answering Stiles. "'That' was me putting Peter in his place, and punishing him for attacking you."

"Oh, I got that part," Stiles snapped, seething. "What I'm asking is, what the fuck made him think _attacking_ me was a good idea?"

Derek sighed. "Peter... is not a good wolf. He's always worked differently from the rest of the pack; I warned everyone else to ignore the fact that you are an Omega as much as they could, to let you settle in, but Peter doesn't think rules apply to him. The vast majority of wolves respect consent and back off when it's not given, but there are a few bad apples."

"So what you're saying," Stiles said carefully, "is that he did that because I'm an Omega?"

" _No_ ," Derek said emphatically. "He did that because he does not respect boundaries, is an asshole, and wanted something without regard to anyone else. What he did is all on him.

Stiles let out a shaky breath and took a hesitant step toward Derek. "I should have trusted you," he admitted. "There's... There's something _wrong_ with him. He almost..." Stiles looked away, everything in him tensing up as he thought of what could have happened if Derek hadn't come to his aid. A not-unfamiliar wave of hatred for what the bite had done to his body washed over him, and he shuddered. "Thank you," he said at last. "I can't even begin to... Thank you."

"That's what an Alpha does," Derek said, offering Stiles a smile. It was true-- the Alpha protected his pack even from other members of it. Stiles may not have been 'officially' pack, but Derek's wolf counted him as such.

Stiles nodded. He felt stupid; he should never have let Peter get that close, and he shouldn't have had to rely on Derek to get him out of a situation he could only blame himself for. So he nodded, and took back the step he'd made moments earlier. "I should go back inside," he said lamely. He knew that Boyd was watching him, though he didn't dare to meet his gaze. "Thanks again. For..." He couldn't even hope to finish that sentence, so he turned to walk away from them. He would _not_ lose what little dignity he had left by running.

Derek didn't let him get far, though; he closed the distance between them, reaching out to lay a tentative hand on Stiles's shoulder. "I actually came looking for you," he said, moving so that he and Stiles were facing each other. "I spoke with Chris, and he's willing to allow you and your dad to visit-- supervised, at the edge of the Preserve."

Stiles' eyes widened. "Seriously?" he asked. "Oh my God, I-- Thank you, Derek. Again, thank you so much." For once, he allowed himself to give into his wolf's instincts, and he threw his arms around the Alpha. Derek was caught off guard by the sudden hug, but he hugged Stiles back nonetheless, hiding a small smile in Stiles's hair. Maybe there was hope. It didn't last long, however, as Stiles pulled back after a moment looking horrified. "What do I tell him?" he asked. "About-- So much is different now. I'm barely even his _son_ anymore."

"How about you start with 'hello,'" Derek suggested. "You're still his son, you just get extra hairy on the full moon."

"Among other things," Stiles said darkly.

"Take it slow," Derek advised. "You don't have to spring everything on him at once-- and the fact that you're an Omega-- and all it entails-- shouldn't be relevant unless you actually... y'know. End up pregnant."

"Pregnant," Stiles repeated with a weak laugh. "That's not an issue. I am _never_ going to get pregnant."

Derek was getting good at hiding his wince when Stiles said things like that. "Still-- he doesn't need to know about that, if you don't want to tell him."

"You're right," Stiles agreed, forcing himself to stay calm. "I'm just scared he'll see me differently."

"He might," Derek conceded. "But none of us know that for sure-- and I highly doubt it."

"Who's supervising?" Stiles asked. 

"Me and Chris; it's a safety measure for both sides," Derek explained

Stiles sighed. "Is Chris gonna know?" was his next question. "Like, will he look at me and think, 'That boy's got a pussy'?"

Derek shook his head. "Omegas don't look any different from Betas," he explained. "At least as long as they've got clothes on. As far as he knows, you're a Beta."

Stiles nodded. "Then it can stay that way," he decided. "I don't want anyone to know.”

"Fair enough," Derek said. "It's your decision." He smiled at Stiles, rubbing his shoulder. "Chris and I were thinking about this Saturday, if that's okay with you."

Stiles smiled. "Sounds great."

* * *

In the days leading up to that Saturday, Peter stayed well away from both Derek and Stiles, which Derek was more than okay with. Stiles and Derek spent some time together; Derek was trying to coach Stiles through shifting without the help of the full moon, but it wasn't going too well.

On Saturday, Derek and Stiles went for a run to help pass the time before they left to meet Chris and the sheriff; Stiles was nervous, and understandably so. Eventually however, the time came for their meeting, and they headed to the edge of the Preserve. Derek could hear a car running as they approached the meeting place, and he glanced at Stiles. "Hear that?"

Stiles nodded. "Chris' car?"

Derek focused in on the car again. "That or the sheriff's cruiser," he agreed. "We're almost there; I think we might actually beat them to the clearing. Come on."

"We can cross the border, right?" Stiles asked as they picked up their pace. He wanted to hug his dad.

Derek nodded. "Chris and I are both there, we've both given permission, so it's fine, as long as we all stay in the clearing."

That was something, at least. They did beat the humans to the clearing, but only just, and as soon as Stiles caught sight of his father he was running towards him and straight into his arms. "I've missed you so much," he mumbled into the sheriff's shoulder, breathing in the smell of family and safety and _home_ that he'd always known but was now that much stronger.

Derek and Chris met off to the side, nodding respectfully to each other as father and son embraced. "How's he settling in?" Chris asked.

"Pretty well; he's already got the start of an anchor," Derek answered. "First full moon was rough, but he did much better this last one."

Stiles and the sheriff had released each other now, but were sticking close together all the same as they talked quietly.

"What's it like?" the sheriff asked at last. "Y'know. Being a wolf?"

Stiles flushed. "It's okay," he admitted. "I'm stronger than I ever was, faster. I can hear your heartbeat right now."

That was maybe a mistake, because the sheriff looked uncomfortable for a moment before he forced his expression to clear. "Are you happy?" he wanted to know.

Stiles sighed. "Yeah," he confessed, and it was true. He glanced behind himself at Derek, but if he lowered his voice any more his dad wouldn't be able to hear him and Derek still would. "It's hard, but... I'm learning. Everyone's great." _Almost everyone_. "Really supportive. Derek, especially."

The sheriff smiled, and his heartbeat was steady as he said, "Then I'm happy for you."

Chris glanced at Derek. "What are they talking about?" he wanted to know.

Derek frowned. "I'm not eavesdropping on them," he said tersely. "Werewolves _do_ understand the concept of privacy."

Chris raised his hands in supplication. "Fair enough."

Stiles was eavesdropping on them though, and he found it difficult to believe that Derek wasn't listening. Either way, he wasn't taking any risks. "How's Scott?" he asked instead.

The sheriff smiled. "He wanted to come today, but I told him he'd have to wait," he said. "He misses you. He told me that he was going to take your place."

Stiles nodded. "I couldn't let him. Do you understand that?"

"I do," the sheriff assured him, and it wasn't a lie. "I just wish--"

"I know." Stiles didn't even try to blink the tears from his eyes. "Dad, I'm so sorry." And then they were hugging again. 

* * *

Stiles and his father spent most of the afternoon catching up, and while Derek tried to tune out as much of their conversation as he could, he still caught snippets. So when he and Stiles were heading back to the pack house, he asked, "Who's Scott?"

Stiles smirked. "I knew you were listening in," he said smugly.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Not to everything," he retorted. "even an Alpha can't control the volume around them like it's TV."

"Whatever you say, big guy," Stiles laughed. "Scott's my brother, in everything but blood. We grew up together." He hesitated, and then continued; "He's the reason I accepted the bite."

Derek tilted his head in curiosity. "How so?"

"He said that if I wouldn't take it, he would," Stiles answered. "I couldn't let him throw his life away because of me."

Derek considered that for a moment. "A bit manipulative of him, wasn't it?" he commented.

Stiles smiled. "Maybe, but I guess he couldn't let me throw my life away because of him. Either way, there's not a lot I can do about it now."

"No, not really," Derek agreed. He hesitated, then added, "For what it's worth, I am sorry for putting you in that position. Instinct isn't always a good thing for a wolf, and I listened to mine a little too much when it came to you."

Stiles shrugged. "I owe you my life," he said simply. "If you hadn't listened to your instincts, you would have killed me. The treaties said you were within your rights to."

Derek shrugged one shoulder; that didn't change the fact that he still felt bad about forcing that decision on Stiles so quickly. If he'd just listened more to his rational side... "Still," he said after a moment, "I know you really didn't want this life. But, also... Thank you, I guess, for keeping an open mind."

"Don't get me wrong, I'd still pick being human any day," Stiles said lightly. "But I'm starting to accept that that's never going to happen."

"There's no confirmed way to return to being human, no," Derek said thoughtfully. "A couple of legends, but nothing concrete."

"What do the legends say?" Stiles asked, more out of curiosity than anything. 

"The big one is that killing the Alpha that bit you, but some say that it has to be done before your first moon, and some disagree with that," Derek answered.

Stiles shuddered. Even if he had missed his window of opportunity, the thought of killing Derek was utterly repulsive. "I guess I'm stuck like this, then," he said, trying to laugh. 

Derek bumped Stiles's shoulder with his own. "We're not all bad, though, right?" he asked, half-teasing.

"Not at all," Stiles returned, smiling. "The ones that _don't_ try to rape me are my favourites."

Derek's expression darkened at the reminder. "I should've gone ahead and ripped his throat out," he muttered. "That's his final shot. Next time I am."

"He's your uncle," Stiles reasoned. "Not that I wouldn't like seeing him in agonising, potentially fatal pain. I just think murdering a member of your family wouldn't make you feel better."

"You've only been around for a little over two months," Derek reminded Stiles. "I've known Peter my whole life. Since I've become Alpha, he's challenged me several times. I'm not entirely certain it was an accident that got the previous Alpha killed, and now that stunt he tried to pull with you. I'm done giving him more chances, and I'm pretty sure he knows it, after I kicked his ass the other day."

"I haven't seen him around since then," Stiles said thoughtfully, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. He was pretty sure that the previous Alpha had been Derek's mom, and he was also pretty sure that he was the last person Derek wanted to be talking to about this. "Maybe he'll behave himself now."

Derek sighed. "Maybe," he allowed.

* * *

Derek and Stiles started working more seriously on Stiles's anchor after that, but progress was slow. It was two steps forward, one step back for several days until progress completely and utterly stalled. Exasperated after Stiles's seventh failed attempt, Derek asked the question he'd really been hoping he wouldn't have to. "Have you been masturbating?"

Stiles flushed beet red. "I don't think that's any of your business," he spluttered, letting his mouth run away from him. "Have _you_?"

Derek nodded. "Or course-- sexual frustration is bad for control."

Stiles hadn't been expecting an answer; his blush deepened. "Well, that's-- nice?" he stammered.

Derek rolled his eyes. "My _point_ is that if you haven't been masturbating, that's messing with your control. Your wolf needs release in a primal way-- so we can either go kill some bunnies, or you can go masturbate."

"But I _can't_!" Stiles whined, frustrated. "It's all right for _you_ , you and your dick probably have a great relationship." And oh God, what was he saying? "Me and _my_ dick had a great relationship too--" Why was he still talking? "--and then my dick _vanished_ , and all the long, blissful years of relationship building vanished with it! I can't touch myself down there," he finished, his voice going quiet, desperate. "I'm all _wrong_."

"You're not 'wrong'," Derek said firmly, moving forward to grip Stiles's upper arms gently. "Yes, you no longer have a dick. But you're not wrong, you've just got a different body part now in place of it. Just give it a try, okay? I hate to sound like a parent, but you won't know if you don't like it if you don't try it. Besides-- with a clit and pussy, you can have multiple orgasms, in case you didn't know." The only reason he wasn't totally freaking out about having to discuss this with Stiles was because _Stiles_ was freaking out. He had to be calm; he was the Alpha, after all.

Stiles had to admit that that _did_ sound good, but... "I don't know," he said at last. "I feel... _gross_. Like it's not a part of me. I don't know if I could stomach it."

Derek was extremely tempted to offer his help-- but that wouldn't do any good. The point was that Stiles had to accept his body on his own. "All I can say is that you should try it. Until you can find a way to release that frustration, it's going to mess with your control."

Stiles sighed. "I'll try," he promised, his ears burning. "I don't want to kill bunnies."

* * *

Later that night, Stiles decided to try it out. He started off in the shower, making sure that he was clean and warm and relaxed, if not all that _ready_ , before moving things into the bedroom. He considered sidestepping the full-length mirror that made up the door of his closet altogether, avoiding looking at himself like he'd been doing ever since he'd realised he was lacking, but he quickly decided that that would be stupid. If he was going to be getting _all up in that_ , he might as well know what he was dealing with, right? So he stood in front of the mirror, and spent a long moment just meeting his own gaze. His face hadn't changed at all, his shift for once miles from the surface, had in fact matured in the time he'd spent with the pack. His features were just a little sharper, more defined - he _looked_ like a man. But he wasn't one. Was he?

Stiles' gaze wandered lower then, over his shoulders and chest, the dark if sparse hair there, the muscles that were beginning to develop on his abdomen. But then he dropped his eyes further, and he felt his stomach lurch. There was a mound of hair between his legs, darker and thicker than anywhere else, and that was all. At least, on the outside. Before he could talk himself out of it, Stiles spread his legs and reached down, using two fingers to spread _other things_. Even then, he couldn't see much, just a flash of pink and a glisten of _wet_. Was he wet? He poked at himself with a third finger, curious, and found that he wasn't wet, exactly, just... warm. Damp? What words was he supposed to use to describe this?

It soon became apparent that whatever _this_ was, he couldn't continue in front of the mirror. Not only was it physically challenging, but the sight of himself made him feel anything but turned on. He wandered over to the bed and laid down on his back, instinctively bringing his knees up and spreading them. Another quick prod told him that he was nowhere near wet enough for further activity, something he was actually familiar with - but there was no bottle of lotion or lube conveniently hidden in his nightstand. He was supposed to be able to produce his own lubrication now, but where was it? He let his mind wander, remembering the excited throb he'd felt earlier when Derek had been talking about all the possibilities his new parts could open up to him, the strange _pulse_ of want that had made his mouth go dry even as he'd clenched his thighs together in an attempt to make it stop. He'd gotten wet then, hadn't he? Derek's words had turned him on - and they were turning him on now, he realised, as he replayed them in his head. The phrase _multiple orgasms_ had definitely grabbed his attention, but right now it was the sound of Derek's voice saying _pussy_ and _clit_ that was filling Stiles' mind. He was feeling that pulse again, and when he reached down to spread himself for a second time the action was accompanied by a slick sound that set Stiles' heart racing.

Carefully, so carefully, he let a finger slip between his folds. He was definitely wet now; Stiles' stomach threatened to rebel at just how wet. _Unnatural_. But it wasn't unnatural. Derek had said it was anything but; this was just how his body worked now. So Stiles pressed on, feeling around as he let himself get used to this uncharted terrain, gasping when his finger caught something inside a small hood of skin that had his hips twitching involuntarily. _"Clit,"_ the echo of Derek's voice supplied helpfully, and Stiles touched it again. "Fuck!" The word was punched out of him, along with a fresh gush of slick that he felt soaking into his pubic hair. Maybe he should be grooming, he thought absently, but all ideas of how he would manage with a razor down there fled when he slipped the hood between his finger and his clit and rubbed. _God_ , that felt good - similar to how it had felt when he'd played with his foreskin, and maybe he wasn't that different after all.

But he knew that he was, because there was even more slick now, his body happily providing the lubrication he needed to make this feel really good. Curiously, he reached down with his finger to get it nice and wet, catching against the edge of his pussy as he did so. Again, Stiles gasped, his legs spreading automatically, and he decided to try, just this once. Derek had said it would feel good, and why not? It was what it was meant for. So he tentatively extended his finger, sliding it into himself where he was hot and tight with want. Too tight, it seemed, for he was barely up to his first knuckle when a sharp sting shot through him, and he was quick to withdraw. _Not yet_ , he thought to himself as he moved higher up to safer ground and found that the shock of the pain had dried him up a little, _Not this time_. He used what moisture remained to return to his clit, and then it didn't take very long for him to get wet again, his finger moving in fast, slick circles against the little ball that was giving him _so much_ pleasure. 

He lost himself to it very quickly after that, his eyes screwed shut as he worked himself over. It was an impossible struggle to keep quiet, and soon little sounds began to escape him, grunts of effort and short, sharp gasps as his pleasure built and built, his hips moving restlessly against his hand, his pussy clenching around nothing. When it became apparent that he was too tense to come, he tried slowing down, and then his moans were longer, lower, _louder_. His orgasm built more gradually this time, making him gasp and whine as his fingers sped up to match his need. The race to the finish was all too familiar, but when he finally made it, when his orgasm crested and crashed over him like the world's most powerful tidal wave, it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It went on, and on, and _on_ , and when it was finally over it left him exhausted, his chest heaving and his thighs trembling, little aftershocks that were utterly delicious making his hips jump up and then spasm away when his fingertip brushed his over-sensitive clit.

"Jesus Christ," he moaned when at last he could speak again, his legs falling back onto the bed. He couldn't remember ever being this relaxed; this satisfied. "Jesus _Christ_."

Derek had been right.

* * *

Derek regretted every decision in his life that had led to this moment.

He'd never known someone could be so _loud_.

And... energetic.

Seriously. Werewolf stamina was ridiculous, but Stiles was taking it to the next level.

Derek rolled over and yanked his pillow over his head, making a note to have Harry look into finally finishing the soundproofing just as Stiles apparently discovered the wonders of the g-spot.

* * *

Derek had been avoiding him. Stiles knew this because he'd actually been seeking Derek out a lot more since the fight with Peter and Derek had always made himself readily available - but suddenly he was nowhere to be seen. The only thing Stiles could think was that maybe Stiles' lack of control was frustrating Derek even more than he'd let on. Whatever the reason, though, it made Stiles' wolf whine. It didn't like being away from the Alpha at the best of times, but apparently being purposefully isolated? His wolf was in pieces.

Which was why Stiles set out one morning to clear the air. He found Erica first, washing up the breakfast things, and approached her with a hopeful smile. He liked Erica. "Hey, have you seen Derek?"

Erica snickered. "Yes, I have," she told Stiles. Derek had looked quite a bit worse for wear after Stiles's energetic night.

"Would you like to point me in his direction?" Stiles pressed, frowning.

"He's out in the forest," Erica said, a smile playing about her lips. "I'd guess about three miles north-- there's a giant tree in a clearing."

Stiles would be able to find that no problem; he was getting better at following scents. Still, something about Erica's expression made him hesitate. "What do you know?" he asked.

"That the soundproofing in this house isn't finished, and that our Alpha is easily flustered," Erica smirked.

Stiles felt his stomach drop. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"If you're thinking that I'm saying our Alpha has a ridiculous crush on you and refuses to do anything about it, then yes." Erica beamed at Stiles. "Now, go get him, Tiger."

Stiles' heart was pounding in his chest, and he barely managed a weak, "Thanks," before bolting from the house. He needed to find Derek. 

* * *

Derek was alerted to Stiles's presence by his pounding heartbeat. He glanced over his shoulder, frowning at the expression on Stiles's face and the way his scent was a chaos of emotions. "Is something wrong?"

_Is anything right?_ Stiles wanted to ask, but he knew he couldn't. He'd spent the run over thinking about what Erica had said, but he was still just as conflicted as he had been at the start. So Stiles decided to forgo answering Derek's question in favour of asking one of his own. "Do you have a crush on me?"

Derek stared at Stiles. "You-- What?" he demanded, alarmed.

"Erica said you have a crush on me," Stiles explained, slightly breathless. "She said that you've been able to hear me, _y'know_ , which I'm really sorry about by the way, and that you have a crush on me."

Derek rubbed a hand over his face. "Erica," he growled. Then he sighed. "She's... right," he admitted; he still didn't want to talk about the fact that they were mates.

"And you didn't think to tell me this?" Stiles asked. 

Derek sighed. "You were so against being a wolf, and then you were close with Peter, and then... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Stiles deflated a little. Those were actually very good points. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just-- This is a lot to take in."

Derek shrugged. "You don't have anything to be sorry for," he reassured Stiles. "Erica, on the other hand..."

Stiles shrugged. "She was just trying to help, I guess," he offered awkwardly. "Listen, I-- I can't... I can't know how I feel right now."

"I know," Derek said, meeting Stiles's gaze. "That's why I didn't say anything. I was going to wait... I don't know. I would have waited till you were comfortable as a wolf, at least."

Stiles laughed. "I don't know if I ever will be," he admitted. "But I'm working on it. I want to be."

Derek's mouth curved into a small smile. "That's the more important thing; I want you to be safe and comfortable here."

"Thank you," Stiles said, smiling back. "Are we okay?"

"Of course. Just-- until we get the soundproofing finished, try to keep it down?" Derek asked, a teasing smile on his face.

Once again, Stiles' cheeks were burning. "I'm _so_ sorry. I had no idea!"

Derek chuckled. "Hey, I'm just glad you're getting more comfortable with you body."

Stiles tried to hide his smile, but failed. "It's, umm... It's really something," he admitted. 

"In a good way, I hope," Derek said with a smile. "We should head back to the house."

"I think I'll stay out here a little while longer," Stiles said. "If that's okay?"

Derek nodded. "Unless you want company?" he offered.

Stiles smiled. "I'm good, but thanks.”

* * *

It took a day or two for things to resettle between Stiles and Derek, but they got there nonetheless. Now that Stiles wasn't sexually frustrated (and boy, did Derek have _plenty_ of evidence to prove that; it was all he could do to keep from jerking off at night, hearing Stiles's moans), his control was improving in leaps and bounds. He still didn't want to share his anchor, and Derek didn't push.

About two weeks or so after Erica interfered, Lysa approached Derek and Stiles for help. "I need to give the pups a bath," she explained, "but I can't catch them. Can you help? This full-moon energy is working on them big time."

Stiles grinned at Derek. He loved playing with Lysa's pups, and between their Alpha and their cool Uncle Stiles, they should be pretty easy to wrangle. "Leave it to us."

Stiles's confidence was misplaced-- individually, the pups were easy to wrangle. But when they _both_ decided that baths were for losers and that they were not losers... Well, werewolf cubs were devious. Derek was reluctant to flash his Alpha-eyes at them, because that could have one of three effects: the desired one, that the cubs would settle down and stay still long enough for Derek and Stiles to grab them; it could upset them to tears; or they would become even _more_ obstinate, and the whole pack would have to be enlisted.

Derek huffed in annoyance. "Dammit, there goes Toby again," he muttered. "Here, hold Ellie." He dumped the cub unceremoniously into Stiles's arms before shifting fully and bounding after the cub.

Ellie squirmed desperately in Stiles' arms but he managed to keep hold of her, and she calmed down a little when Stiles started to pet her. "That's better," he cooed, pleased. "Bath time isn't all that bad, I promise." It was the wrong thing to say. Having lured him into a false sense of security by relaxing in his hold, Ellie found it all too easy to leap out of Stiles' arms and dash off after her brother. "Goddamn it!"

Derek, who'd managed to capture Toby and was now carrying the petulant cub towards the bathroom, huffed around his mouthful in amusement. He scratched at the bathroom door, scenting Lysa on the other side, and gave the mother her cub before tracking down Stiles and Ellie; Ellie, apparently having realized she was alone in the battle, was now determined to go down in a blaze of glory; the cub had managed to climb to the top of the entertainment center. Derek growled under his breath, eyeing Stiles as if to say, _Really?_

"I'm working on it!" Stiles defended, reaching out his hands for the cub. "She's just so _stubborn_. Ellie, would you please come down?" Ellie only gave Stiles an unimpressed look and danced further out of reach.

Derek huffed a sigh before jumping onto the couch, then onto the back of it and carefully making his way towards where Ellie was walking. The cub paused when she noticed her Alpha watching her, and Derek just barely showed his teeth, growling softly. It was enough to make Ellie freeze.

Stiles took the opportunity to pluck her back into his arms, and he grinned at Derek as he cradled her close. "Go team!"

Derek grinned-- well, as much as he could in this form-- before escorting Stiles and Ellie to the bathroom so that Lysa could grab her other cub.

"Are all werewolf cubs so energetic?" Stiles asked with a smile once they'd dropped off the cubs and Derek was walking on two legs again. "I can't imagine you running around like that."

Derek chuckled. "The full moon is affecting them," he explained. "For wolves who haven't entered puberty, it just makes them more energetic. It did the same to me and Laura; drove Mom crazy. Half the time she swore we were telepathic."

"Were you?" Stiles asked lightly. Derek rarely if ever mentioned Laura in front of him, and he didn't want to disturb whatever careful balance they were holding just now.

Derek laughed. "No, we weren't; we just knew each other very well," he answered. "As pups, the only way to tell us apart was scent, and even that didn't work half the time since we were always together. We had a lot of fun tormenting each other and the pack because of that."

Stiles grinned. "I think Scott and me would have been like that if we were actually brothers," he told Derek. "We were always getting underfoot, drove our parents nuts."

Derek had a small smile on his face. "That's part of being a family, I think. You drive each other crazy, but at the end of the day you love each other more than any of you know what to do with."

Stiles was a little stunned by that, but he had to concede Derek's point. He suddenly ached with how much he missed Scott and his dad, but he was also grateful for what he had now. "I'm starting to think that's what pack's about, too," he confessed after a moment.

Derek smiled and reached over to squeeze Stiles's shoulder gently. "So we're no longer 'monsters'?" he asked, teasing.

"Oh, you are sometimes," Stiles teased right back, trying to contain a laugh. "Especially early in the morning."

Derek chuckled. "Can't really argue with that," he conceded. "Caffeine doesn't do much for werewolves, unfortunately. We metabolize it too fast."

"Trust me, I've noticed," Stiles grumbled.

Derek laughed at Stiles's expression. "You were entirely too dependent on caffeine while you were living in town weren't you?"

"You would be, too," Stiles assured him. "I lived a crazy busy life."

"Oh?" Derek asked curiously.

Stiles shrugged. "Mostly through my own design," he admitted. "But between Scott and school and my dad and Lydia Martin, it was either stop sleeping or have no time to eat."

"Scott's your friend," Derek said thoughtfully, "who's Lydia?"

"A girl I used to be in love with," Stiles answered flippantly. "She's dating Jackson, y'know, that douchebag who wanted to take the bite?" He sighed. "She could do so much better."

Derek snorted. "I'm tempted to think almost _anyone_ would be better than him."

"Right? He's such an asshole," Stiles agreed eagerly. "But it's none of my business now."

Derek shrugged. "You can still keep tabs on your old friends, you know. Maybe Chris could be persuaded to let them come with your dad once your control is better."

"It's mostly Scott that I'm worried about," Stiles admitted. "Dad said he might be able to come next time."

"You miss him a lot, don't you?" Derek asked, looking at Stiles curiously.

"He's my brother," Stiles answered. "We saw each other every day, and we... we helped each other through everything, and now this huge thing has happened that I'm only just beginning to get my head around, and he's not there. So, yeah, it's hard."

Derek was quiet for a moment. "Do you still have your cell phone?" he asked finally.

Stiles blinked. "Yeah," he said. "It's in a drawer somewhere and the battery's dead, but I have it."

"Well, if I ask Chris to bring you a charger for it, you could use it to keep in touch with Scott, at least," Derek suggested.

"Is that allowed?" Stiles asked, surprised. "I thought the whole point was that the wolves' and the humans' worlds only collide when they have to."

Derek nodded. "Normally, yes-- but we haven't had a bitten wolf in a couple of generations now. Chris might be willing to let you stay in contact with Scott. And maybe it's time we let the humans see that we aren't monsters."

"That... sounds like a great idea," Stiles agreed. "A lot of people still have really wrong opinions about werewolves."

"Well, we'll take it slow," Derek said. "For now, I'll see if Chris can get the sheriff to bring your charger next time you meet."

Stiles grinned. "Thank you."

Derek returned the smile. "You're welcome."

* * *

"Oh for God's sake," Derek growled, dropping his head to his desk. The howls and cries of Ellie and Toby were reaching critical levels, and Lysa wasn't scheduled to be back till dusk.

It was just past noon.

Derek shoved away from his desk, going to the living room and frowning at the wolf who was currently trying to calm the pups down. "No luck?" he asked-- the wolf shook her head; it was Mary, Lysa's sister, and they'd thought maybe the similar scent would help, but apparently they were wrong.

Stiles appeared a moment later, looking exhausted. "Make it stop," he groaned. "Not even magical werewolf healing is taking care of this headache. Please, make it stop."

Derek glanced at Stiles, frowning-- then an idea hit him. "Hand the cubs to Stiles," he instructed Mary, who looked at him in surprise, but complied.

Stiles took them with a scowl, which quickly cleared when the cubs' howls dissolved immediately into whines. "Oh, babies, it's okay," he crooned, bowing his head to scent them on instinct. "Uncle Stiles is here, and your mommy's gonna be home real soon." The cubs were scenting him back, now, their whines softening until they disappeared entirely. Stiles sent Derek an incredulous look before returning to his task.

Derek could hear every wolf in the house let out a relieved sigh. He helped Stiles get settled on the couch, sitting down beside him and taking one of the cubs, who snuffled sadly, but didn't start crying again. "It's because you're an Omega," he explained quietly. "You smell more like a mother to them-- more comforting."

"Even these little guys know I'm nothing but a baby making machine?" Stiles asked.

Derek huffed and rolled his eyes. "You are _not_ a 'baby-making machine'," he said firmly. "You're Stiles. Period, end of story. They just know that, for whatever reason, you smell extremely familiar, and comforting."

Stiles thought about that for a moment, about the way Ellie had calmed under his touch and had even fallen asleep, and smiled. It was weak, tentative, but it was there. "I kind of like it," he admitted quietly.

Derek smiled as well, but didn't say anything, only shifting so that Toby could crawl closer to his sister and Stiles.

Stiles shifted his hold so that he could rub one of Toby's ears, and was impressed when he started to drop off, too. Mary took her chance and crept from the room, leaving Stiles and Derek alone. It was unbelievable just how calm Stiles felt, with Derek's thigh pressed up against his own and the cubs breathing softly beneath his hands. He stayed quiet for a long time, letting everything just wash over him, and when he turned to Derek at last he wasn't surprised to find the Alpha watching him, his face open and relaxed. Stiles smiled.

"I want to know more," he murmured. "About me, and what being an Omega means."

Derek was surprised for a moment, then he grinned. "I'll have Isaac look for the journals Clay left behind," he promised. "I'd be surprised if he _didn't_ write about being Omega. He was a bit of a scientist, apparently."

"Sounds cool," Stiles said, his smile growing to match Derek's grin. "Are you sure you want me reading his journals, though? There must be some pretty personal stuff in there."

"This is your pack now, too," Derek reminded Stiles. "I've nothing to hide from you."

Stiles nodded, grateful. "I'll let you know if I find anything exciting," he promised.

Derek smiled. "Thank you."

* * *

True to his word, Derek had Isaac find his great-uncle Clay's journals and deliver them to Stiles. That was the end of it, he'd thought-- until Stiles came to him one afternoon a couple of days after first receiving the journals. Apparently he'd found something. "What's up?"

"Nothing especially," Stiles answered. "I found out some super disturbing stuff about being an Omega, but other than that." He shuddered delicately. "I also found some really cool stuff about your mom, though. Talia was your mom, right?"

Derek nodded, kicking his chair around so he could face Stiles and gesturing for the other wolf to take a seat. "Yeah, she was," he answered. "What kind of stuff?"

"Just anecdotes, mostly," Stiles answered, taking the offered seat and sliding the journal over to Derek. "Shenanigans she got up to with Peter. It seems she thought he was a massive creepy weirdo, too."

Derek skimmed over the passage the book was open to, smiling as he read. "She always was a good judge of character," he said softly.

"She sounds great," Stiles agreed. "She's only a kid where I'm up to, but even so, she's a sass master. I see where you get it from."

Derek chuckled "Gramps always said it was the curse of the Hale Pack: we didn't need claws to get our point across or piss people off."

"Maybe that's why you're so strong," Stiles said as he reached over, flipping to a different section of the journal. "Your wolfiness isn't your whole identity."

"It shouldn't be for any wolf," Derek said, looking at Stiles. "It's a vital part of us, but not the only part."

"I know," Stiles said, smiling. "That was a dumb thing to say, sorry."

Derek shrugged. "You're a bitten wolf; your perspective is bound to be different," he pointed out. "But that's nothing to be ashamed of."

Stiles appreciated that more than he could say. "I'm getting there," he offered. "Your uncle's journals, they're really helping me."

Derek smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Learning more about being an Omega, too?"

Stiles let out a long breath. "Man, you don't know the half of it," he said. "Did you know I can go into heat? Heat!"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "No, I didn't know that-- when?"

"After I have sex," Stiles supplied, grimacing. "It's an induced thing, y'know, like with lions? I have sex, and then I have a heat, and then if I have more sex, ding! Babies."

Derek's face did something odd. "Are the sound effects necessary?" he asked, frowning. "And that... makes a certain amount of sense. At least that gives you control over when you go into heat."

Stiles snorted. "Yeah, like _never_."

Derek shrugged one shoulder. "It's still your choice," he said evenly.

"And that is my choice," Stiles told him. "My body might think otherwise now, but I was not put on this earth to bear children."

Derek tilted his head, conceding the point. "True; if I hadn't bitten you, you never would've become an Omega."

"Exactly," Stiles said. "And I'm way past playing the blame game, believe me, but that doesn't mean I'm suddenly okay with going through labour. Or using my newly acquired parts at all, for that matter." He blushed. "Apart from the obvious."

Derek's flush matched Stiles's. "I see your point."

Stiles chuckled. "There's some fun stuff too, though," he continued. "Apparently my presence can be calming towards all wolves, especially young ones and, umm, alphas. Apart from Peter, of course. And there's old traditions that deal with basically worshipping the pack Omega, which I personally feel that we should bring back." He winked at Derek. "According to Clay, the presence of an Omega can unite a pack, keep everyone grounded. I think that only works once they're mated, though."

Derek grinned and rolled his eyes. "Of course you would," he said, reaching over to push at Stiles's shoulder playfully. "But that's definitely interesting. I knew Omegas were highly valued, but if they can ground an entire pack..."

"Don't get too excited," Stiles cautioned. "I have to be _mated_ , remember? And there's no way I'm mating with Peter."

Derek made a face. "Yeah, I caught that part. But maybe it'll work a little even if you're unmated. Either way, I'm glad these journals are helping you."

"Me too," Stiles said, smiling. "Thank you."

* * *

The journals continued to help, even though there were some parts of them that made Stiles blush; he did _not_ want to think about Derek's long-dead great uncle rubbing one out, although Clay did offer some helpful suggestions that Stiles found to be highly effective - after a healthy application of brain bleach, of course. The journals were so helpful, in fact, that Stiles spent most of his time with his nose buried in them, emerging only when it was his turn to babysit or when Derek wanted to work on his control. Since he'd started masturbating regularly and reading about another Omega's experiences, he'd been coming on in leaps and bounds, and he was more than a little smug to note that Derek was pleased with his progress. Still, he spent most of the next full moon curled up in Derek's arms, the rest of it running with him through the trees while keeping well away from the rest of the pack.

The only person who seemed bitter about this development was Peter. He'd started showing his face a little more in the run up to the full moon, and was obviously put out that Stiles was spending a lot of time with Derek, but Stiles didn't care. Peter had even gone so far as to corner Stiles when he'd been coming out of the bathroom one morning and snarl that Derek had ulterior motives, had _feelings_ for Stiles, but Stiles had snarled right back at Peter to get the fuck out of his face and interestingly enough Peter had scarpered. What he didn't seem to realise was that Stiles already knew about Derek's _feelings_ ; was starting to feel some feelings of his own.

Which was something that Stiles was decidedly not dealing with, of course. Instead, he focused on his control, on Lysa and her babies, on developing a strong friendship with Derek outside of either of their _feelings_. A week after the full moon, he also focused on an upcoming visit with his father and, potentially, Scott. Derek had called Chris, who had agreed to have a phone charger brought to the border so that Stiles could keep in touch with a few people. Stiles had been so grateful that he'd hugged Derek, before scurrying off to breathe life back into his phone. But now the time had come for him to call Scott, and he had yet to so much as turn it on.

"I'm scared," he confessed to Derek, who had come to find him when his scent had turned sour with anxiety. "My dad says he misses me, but what if he doesn't? He's dating Argent's daughter; what if she's convinced him that I'm a lost cause?"

Derek settled on the bed beside Stiles, resting one hand on the other wolf's shoulder. "I don't think that's possible," he said truthfully. "It will probably be awkward at first, and maybe for a while, but you two have been friends for years. I think you can work through it."

"Don't you think I'm making a mistake?" Stiles asked. "I know you don't like humans very much."

Derek shook his head. "I don't trust humans very much," he corrected. "But you do, and neither Chris nor your father has given me any reason to distrust them specifically. So yes, I'm a bit wary about Scott-- but he's your best friend. And you said himself that he was willing to take the Bite in your place."

"He would've hated it even more than me," Stiles said glumly.

Derek shifted so that he could wrap a comforting arm around Stiles's shoulders. "Well, you're here-- and you'll get to see him soon. Same as you handled your dad, right? Just take it one step at a time."

Stiles dropped his head onto Derek's shoulder with a sigh. "Maybe I'll start with a text."

Derek smiled, rubbing Stiles's upper arm reassuringly. "That sounds good. You've still got a few days before we meet up with him and your dad at the border."

Stiles didn't move, but he did turn his phone on. It took a few moments to wake up and then it pretty much exploded, vibrating wildly with incoming text messages, emails, notifications and the like. A quick glance told him that most of the emails were crap, although there were a handful from Scott and even one from Lydia; the text messages were the same, although they seemed to have the feel of someone calling a dead person's number just to hear their voice again. Stiles ignored all of it in favour of pulling up Scott's number and shooting off a quick message.

**Hey bro, guess who has a phone again? Hope you're okay.**

As soon as it sent, Stiles dropped his phone onto the bed and turned into Derek, hiding his face in Derek's chest. "That was both harder and easier than I expected," he mumbled.

Derek wrapped both arms around Stiles, holding him, and rested his chin on top of the other's head. "But you did it," he said softly. "That's what counts." He pulled back without releasing Stiles to glance down when he heard the phone vibrate.

**Stiles?! They let you have your phone back?!!!**

"Was that him? What did he say?" Stiles asked, not daring to look.

Derek took the phone, unlocking it and looking at the message. He couldn't help but snort. "He can't believe that 'they let you have your phone back,'" he quoted, rolling his eyes.

"Oh what? That's so dumb!" Stiles sat up and snatched the phone from Derek, his thumbs flying over the keys. **Don't be a dumbass, Scotty, they're not animals. I just didn't have a charger until now.** It was only after he'd sent it that he realised the ease with which he had done so, and he turned to Derek, beaming. "He doesn't hate me!"

Derek grinned, reaching up to ruffle Stiles's hair. "You need to quit worrying so much," he informed the other wolf, still smiling.

Stiles' smile sweetened and he leaned into Derek's touch. "I'm starting to work that out."

Derek smiled and followed his instincts-- he leaned down and nuzzled into Stiles, just once.

Stiles accepted the affection with a soft sigh, and when Derek began to pull away he found himself turning his head to chase him, to bring him back. It seemed completely natural, in that moment, to brush their mouths together.

Derek was startled by the kiss, but he returned it, letting himself linger for just a moment before they broke apart. He struggled to quash the hope threatening to blossom in his chest, and ignored the way his wolf was whining, demanding _more, closer, more, mine, mate_. "Stiles?" he asked cautiously, searching the other's gaze.

"I don't know," Stiles breathed, his own gaze lingering on Derek's mouth. "I just wanted to. I've been wanting to."

Derek bit his lip for a moment before tentatively asking, "Do you want to... again?"

"If you do," Stiles answered, shifting impossibly closer to Derek.

Derek nodded. "I do," he said softly, leaning in towards Stiles but leaving the choice up to the other wolf. The Alpha had resigned himself to being friends with Stiles, and nothing more-- _he'd_ been okay with that, because it was heaps better than what he'd had at first with Stiles, even if his wolf hadn't liked it so much. To even share just one kiss was a miracle to Derek, but he wasn't going to push for more. If Stiles wanted more, Derek would gladly give it to him, but he never wanted Stiles to feel like Derek was asking for more than he could give.

Stiles was all too happy to close the gap between them again, but he held back during the actual kiss. He'd only kissed one other person before, and he threaded his fingers into Derek's hair to show him that he did want this, he just didn't know what he was doing.

Derek took things slow, reaching up to frame Stiles's face in his hands, using them to carefully angle Stiles so that they fit together in the best way possible; he deepened the kiss after a moment, letting one hand slide around to the back of Stiles's neck, squeezing lightly before he moved his attention from Stiles's mouth to kiss a path down Stiles's jaw. "Is this okay?" he asked softly, pulling back for a moment.

"More than," Stiles told him, slightly breathless.

Derek smiled, leaning in for another kiss-- he'd barely touched his lips to Stiles's when Stiles's phone went off again. Derek stilled. "You wanna check that?"

"Not really?" Stiles hedged, but he sounded unsure. "Do you mind?"

Derek pulled back, shaking his head with a smile. "Go on; I know you've been missing him."

Stiles smiled and squeezed Derek's leg in gratitude, before picking up his phone. "He said he can't wait to see me," he announced excitedly, already texting back. "God, we're gonna have so much to talk about. I can't believe it." He looked up again once he'd sent his response, his eyes soft and warm. "Thank you so much for this," he murmured.

Derek couldn't help but smile at Stiles's excitement. "You're welcome; I just want you to be happy."

"Me too," Stiles said quickly. "About-- about you. I want you to be happy, too."

Derek couldn't help but chuckle. "Thank you; you want me to let you have some time to catch up with Scott?"

Stiles flushed. "Maybe," he admitted. "But... Later, yeah?"

"Later?" Derek asked, raising one eyebrow, his tone turning playful. "And what do you want to do in the meantime?"

Stiles smiled, pressed himself back into Derek's arms. "I'm sure we can think of something."

* * *

Things didn't change much between Derek and Stiles after that-- they were more comfortable with casual touches, but they hadn't kissed again. Derek tried not to let it get to him, but if he spent a while before falling asleep wondering what it would be like to have Stiles in his arms, to be able to share that casual affection with him that the mated pairs of the pack did... Well, he was only human(sort of.)

That weekend, Derek and Stiles left the pack house to head to the border for their monthly meeting with Chris and the sheriff-- only this time, Scott McCall was coming as well. Derek wasn't worried about being outnumbered; as he'd told Stiles, while he didn't trust humans in general, neither the sheriff nor Chris had given him any reason to distrust them in particular. And besides, Derek was the Alpha of a sizable pack, and Stiles's control had been getting much better of the past months. If need be, they could easily overwhelm or outrun the humans.

Derek reached out as they walked to take Stiles's hand, squeezing slightly. "You doing okay?"

Stiles squeezed back, smiling. "I'm more excited than nervous this time," he said. "But I'm still a little nervous."

"It's fine to be nervous," Derek said reassuringly, moving a little closer to Stiles. "But you two have been texting non-stop. I think you'll be fine."

"I know," Stiles said, grinning. "I can't wait to--" They'd happened upon the clearing very suddenly, and Stiles had been so caught up in his excitement that he was utterly surprised to find the humans already waiting for them. "Scott!" he cried, and released Derek's hand to run to his best friend.

Scott grinned, running to meet Stiles halfway, grunting when they collided. "God, what do they have you on, steroids?" he asked, laughing-- Stiles didn't look different, but he was heavier, somehow, more solid.

Chris hadn't missed the linked hands, and raised an eyebrow at Derek as the Alpha moved off to the side. Derek raised an eyebrow of his own, daring the hunter to comment.

"I'm a werewolf, man, your days of out-beefing me are over," Stiles laughed as the sheriff ambled over and took his turn for a hug. "It's so good to see you both."

"And you, son," Stilinski agreed, lowering his voice. "Don't think I didn't spot how cosy you were with Hale when you were walking up."

Stiles blushed. "It's, umm, it's a thing."

Scott's head whipped around so that he could stare openly at Derek. "Seriously?" he asked, shocked. "You and--"

Stiles smacked Scott's head back around to face him. "Put your eyes back in," he hissed. "And keep your voice down. We haven't exactly talked about it yet."

The sheriff frowned. "But you're going to."

Stiles winced. "It's... complicated."

Scott wanted to ask how, but wisely decided not to-- the Alpha was staring at him with slightly narrowed eyes, and Scott got the feeling he could hear them. "Can he hear us?"

”Of course he can," Stiles said, his face burning. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure," Scott agreed. "How's life treating you? Got fleas yet?"

Stiles smacked Scott again. "Rude! Do you have scabies yet?"

"Scabies?" the sheriff asked.

"You too!" Stiles pointed at his father. "I haven't been around to make sure you've been eating properly, it's a legitimate question!"

Scott made a face. "Fine, okay! Sorry." He yanked Stiles in for another hug. "I just-- We all thought you were gonna be totally gone, y'know? And you're not, and just... It's great to see you again."

Stiles grinned. "I missed you too, buddy."

* * *

Things kept getting better after that. Derek and Stiles took their time with their new relationship, continuing to get to know each other better. They were still friends first and foremost, and Derek had a feeling he sometimes annoyed Stiles with how often he stopped to ask if what they were doing was okay when things got more than a little physical. He couldn't help it; he felt more than a little guilty for not telling Stiles that they were mates, but he was selfish enough to not want to lose what he'd gained that he managed to convince himself that he'd tell Stiles eventually, before things got too serious between them.

As it turned out, the choice to tell Stiles about mates was taken out of his hands.

Peter approached Stiles while the latter was in the library one afternoon a few months later; Stiles had certainly come into his own, and while Peter had accepted that he couldn't have Stiles, he wasn't about to let Derek get off scot-free for his humiliation all those months ago. Now would be the perfect time. "More research?" he asked mildly, browsing a shelf a little bit away from where Stiles was sitting.

Stiles didn't even look up. "Just reading," he answered mildly. "Get out."

"Oh?" Peter said, ignoring Stiles's command-- there was no force behind it, so he felt no compulsion to heed it. "Another one of Clay's journals? Have you read them all?"

"This is the last one," Stiles said, again without looking up. "Get a book, and get out."

"The one where Clay finds his mate, if I'm not mistaken," Peter said, selecting a random book from the shelf and settling into the seat across from Stiles.

Stiles rolled his eyes and closed the journal, keeping his page with a finger. "Okay, what do you want?"

"What do you know about mates?" Peter asked smoothly. "Not mates as in mated, but mates, like soulmates."

"Not a lot," Stiles answered warily. "Clay's only just started talking about them, but he's said that they're very rare."

Peter nodded. "That they are," he agreed. "And they are most often found in an Alpha-Omega pair."

"That makes sense," Stiles agreed. "Clay's talked about how a mated Omega can help to calm a whole pack, so, yeah. That fits."

"It works best with a mated pair, yes," Peter said, tilting his head, "but if the Omega's mate is an Alpha, then it still works even if they haven’t actually _mated_ , just not as... extensively."

"I don't see why you had to invade my personal space to tell me this," Stiles said bluntly. "I'm sure Clay's journals will explain that."

"But his journals can't tell you about the difference in the pack since you've been here," Peter pointed out. "Even Ellie and Toby are calmer than any cubs we've had since Clay died."

"That's because I'm an Omega," Stiles said dryly. "Even without a mate, Omegas still provide a calming influence over the pack, especially younger members. This is stuff I already know."

"Yes," Peter said patiently, "because Derek is your mate."

Stiles raised his gaze heavenward. "Derek and I are barely dating," he said, exasperated.

Peter sighed. "No, you're not mated-- but you are mates. In the rare sense of the term. Soulmates." Honestly, Stiles had shown himself to be a bright individual. Peter expected better.

There was a pause, and then Stiles laughed. He laughed right in Peter's face. "Are you stoned or something?" he asked. "Derek and I aren't mates. He would've told me!"

"Not if he wanted to get close to you," Peter pointed out. "Can you honestly say that you'd be this cozy with him if you knew it was predestined?"

Stiles' certainty wavered, and he hated Peter for it. "You're lying," he snapped viciously. "You're just a bitter old bastard who's sore because I wouldn't let you _rape_ me."

"Listen to my heartbeat," Peter insisted. "I'm telling the truth-- you and Derek are mates."

Peter's heartbeat was steady, and Stiles sent his chair crashing backwards when he stood up from the table, his own heart hammering. "You stay the fuck away from me," he spat, and only just remembered to pick up his book before he fled the room.

Peter settled back in his chair with a slight smirk. Mission accomplished.

Derek was surrounded by various members of the pack when Stiles found him, but he didn't care. "Is it true?" he demanded, almost shouting right over whatever Isaac was saying. It didn't matter how steady Peter's heart had been; he wouldn't believe it until he heard it from Derek.

Derek startled, looking at Stiles in confusion. "Is what true?"

"That we're _mates_ ," Stiles snarled.

Derek stilled. "Yes," he said carefully, watching for Stiles's reaction; around them, the pack had gone completely silent.

Stiles felt his world tilt sideways. "How long have you known?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Derek took a deep breath before answering. "Since the first time I saw you," he admitted. Around him, he could see the looks of surprise and shock that the rest of the pack was giving them, but he ignored them in favor of focusing on Stiles.

Stiles' breath was coming hard and fast, waves of anger and pain crashing over him. "Peter was right," he hissed. "I can't believe it, Peter was right. You _bastard_!"

Derek got to his feet, cautiously taking a step towards Stiles. "What did Peter say?" he asked, struggling to rein in his wolf, which was upset at seeing Stiles upset.

"That you're using me," Stiles answered, his chest heaving. "That you've been using me this whole time."

"Never," Derek swore. "I would never use you, Stiles-- that was never my intention."

Just like with Peter, Stiles' senses were telling him that Derek wasn't lying, but how could he be sure? Derek had said once that wolves and even humans could learn to control their heartbeats. "I don't trust you," Stiles said quietly, and for the second time in less than ten minutes he ran away.

Derek went utterly still at Stiles's words, unable to do anything but watch as Stiles ran. From him. He bit back the whine that threatened to break loose, instead turning to Isaac. "Make sure he stays safe," he said, voice just the wrong side of hoarse before he retreated to his office, shifting and curling up under his desk. It was a habit he'd thought he'd outgrown long ago, but just this once, he wasn't going to give himself grief over it.

* * *

Stiles had been locked away in his room for a good hour when someone knocked on his door. A part of him was surprised they'd bothered at all, but another part of him was woefully disheartened that it had taken them this long. "Leave me alone!" he yelled from beneath his duvet, his voice rough from crying. "And if that's you, Derek, I never want to see you again!"

Isaac sighed. "It's not Derek," he called, opening the door. He shut it carefully behind him, eyeing the lump on the bed that was Stiles. "You two deserve each other," he said after a moment, moving closer. "He hasn't shifted from the wolf since you ran off, and hasn't left his office."

Stiles poked his head out and peered at Isaac. "I don't care," he said childishly.

Isaac sighed. "Did you ever really feel like Derek was using you?" he questioned.

"That's the whole point when someone's using you," Stiles pointed out. "You're not supposed to notice."

Isaac rolled his eyes. "Derek's not subtle. And he's not good at manipulating people," he told Stiles. "If he was trying to use you, you'd know. To be honest, I'm pretty sure he never said anything because he was afraid of this exact reaction. I don't know if you've noticed, but Derek doesn't do well with his own feelings."

Stiles groaned and ducked back under the covers. "I can't deal with this," he complained. "I gave him so much and he's just... He hid this from me the whole time. He let me fall for him and he knew the whole time..." _that it wasn't real_.

"Hey," Isaac said softly, reaching out to laying a hand on Stiles's shoulder. "Don't jump to conclusions, yeah? Get Derek's side, too-- not just Peter's."

Stiles knew Isaac was right, but that just made it worse. He was quiet for several long moments before he threw back the covers with a huff and glared at Isaac. "Fine."

Isaac smiled at Stiles. "Just... knock first before you go into his office. Unless you want an eyeful of naked Alpha."

Stiles followed Isaac's advice, but only after pacing in front of Derek's office for five minutes. He'd caught a couple of the others, namely Erica and Lysa, watching him curiously, but they hadn't approached him and had even scarpered when he met their gazes head on. At last, he screwed up his courage, and knocked on the door. "It's me," he said quietly, knowing Derek would hear.

Derek could barely believe his ears, but the sound of Stiles's heartbeat outside of the office door confirmed that yes, Stiles was standing there, presumably wanting to talk. He emerged from under the desk, shifting quickly and dressing before he opened the door. "Hi," he said cautiously.

"Isaac said I should hear you out before I walk out," Stiles said without preamble. "Can I come in?"

Derek nodded, stepping back to let Stiles in. He sat in one chair, gesturing for Stiles to sit in the other. "What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Everything," Stiles answered simply.

Derek sighed, thinking. After a moment, he figured he should just start from the beginning. "I wasn't lying when I said I couldn't kill you, or let another wolf do it," he started. "I knew from the start that you were my mate, and I admit I got a bit... carried away. I didn't know that giving you the Bite would turn you into an Omega. And I never tried to manipulate you into having feelings for me. Mates are to wolves what soulmates are to humans. Most wolves choose them, but there are a few who are meant to be together. Not always sexually."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked.

"The most common case is a mated pair," Derek explained. "But some just maintain a platonic relationship."

"But that's not what you wanted from me," Stiles deduced.

Derek gestured at Stiles. "I wanted you before you were bitten," he said bluntly. And I'll admit that I didn't go about it in the best way, and I regret that. But I was content with just being your friend."

"So then why didn't you tell me, after I made it clear I wanted to be more than friends?" Stiles asked. "Didn't I deserve to know?"

"You did," Derek said. "I was just... I was a coward. I wanted to tell you, I kept meaning to tell you, but I came up with excuses not to."

"Please understand where I'm coming from," Stiles begged him. "I... It feels like nothing I've been feeling is real."

Derek's heart twisted in his chest. "I understand," he said quietly. "I'm sorry for not telling you-- there's no excuse. I don't even have an answer for whether or not it's real, besides to say that it's possible for platonic soulmates to happen." _It feels real to me_ , was left unsaid.

Stiles wasn't ready to address that yet. "This is why my wolf reacts so strongly to you, isn't it?" he asked instead. "Why it only calms down on full moons when I'm near you."

"At first, probably," Derek admitted. "But the past few moons, it's been all you."

Stiles sighed. That was something, at least. "I need to think about this," he said after a moment. "I need to... decide how I feel about everything." _About you_. "Is that okay?"

Derek nodded. "Take as much time as you need," he reassured Stiles.

Stiles managed a weak smile. "Thank you."

* * *

Things were a little strained after that; Derek and Stiles were avoiding each other, and the rest of the pack was uncertain as to what to do about the situation. Derek wasn't saying anything, besides that Stiles had asked for time, and Stiles wasn't saying anything period. That didn't stop Isaac from seeking out Stiles with a problem that had been bothering him for a while; maybe the newest member of the pack had a different perspective. "Stiles?" he called, poking his head around the door.

"Yeah?" Stiles looked up from Clay's journal, he'd nearly finished it now, and smiled.

"Can I talk to you about something?" Isaac asked nervously.

"Of course," Stiles said, pushing the journal away. "Come and sit down. What's up?"

Isaac moved to perch on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. "I-- you know Boyd and Erica are together?"

"Yes," Stiles said slowly. "It's pretty hard to miss. What about it?"

Isaac took a deep breath and-- without looking at Stiles-- whispered, "I think I'm in love with them."

Stiles didn't even try to close his mouth. " _Both_ of them?"

Isaac nodded miserably. "I-- I wasn't always a part of the Hale pack. My dad was the Alpha of a small pack, and he was a dick," he explained. "Ended up challenging Derek and lost. So Derek took in his pack, and I... It took a while for me to feel comfortable with everyone else. And Erica and Boyd--" Isaac huffed, frustrated. "We got close."

Stiles' eyes were wide as he asked, "How close?"

Isaac shook his head. "Not as close as you're thinking," he answered. "But we spent a lot of time together-- still do-- and got to know each other really well. They got together a few months after I joined the pack, and that wasn't a problem but... now it is."

"Do you want them to break up?" Stiles asked, trying to understand.

Isaac shook his head emphatically. "No! I just--" He sighed. "I want to be with both of them. But I don't think they want that."

"What makes you say that?"

"It feels like they treat me like a younger brother," Isaac confessed.

Stiles sighed. "I don't know how it works in your culture," he admitted, "but for humans polyamory isn't something you see every day. Maybe Boyd and Erica have just never considered including someone else in their relationship."

"It's not usual for wolves, either," Isaac admitted. "We're usually too possessive."

"And that might well be the case for Erica and Boyd, too," Stiles cautioned. "They might not have considered a third person because they're totally against it. But, if you're as close to them as I think you are, then you should be able to talk to them about it regardless."

"But I don't want to make things weird," Isaac said, frustrated. "Once I say something then it's always going to be there."

"Well, what's worse?" Stiles asked. "Taking the chance and risking things being weird for a while, or ignoring everything and wondering what might have been?"

Isaac whined and dropped his head into his hands. "Fuck my life," he muttered. "I'm living in some freaky movie."

Stiles didn't hesitate to put his arm around Isaac and gave him a squeeze. "Do you want me to talk to them?" he asked, wincing as he did so.

Isaac almost took him up on the offer, but-- "No, but thanks," he sighed. "I should probably do it myself."

Stiles closed his eyes in relief. "Let me know how it goes, okay?" he urged Isaac. "I'll be here no matter what."

Isaac nodded. "I will," he promised. On impulse, he leaned over and hugged Stiles hard. "Thank you."

* * *

Stiles heard nothing else on the matter for about a week, and given that he was slightly preoccupied with his own romantic troubles, it was understandable that Isaac's plight slipped his mind. It came thundering back to the forefront, however, when he was approached for a second time, this time by Erica. Stiles liked to think that Erica was a good friend; they'd been hanging out a lot more since his fight with Derek and while she'd made it clear that she wasn't on Stiles' side, she'd also made it clear that she wasn't on Derek's, either. To put it simply, she was a good person, and had been invaluable to Stiles of late. But the look on her face when she sought Stiles out that day told him immediately that she didn't want to watch _Lord of the Rings_ and sigh over Orlando Bloom's stupid, beautiful face.

"What is it?" he asked, standing up to pull her into a hug. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Erica returned the hug gratefully. "Isaac told me and Boyd he loved us," she confessed, voice strained.

"And that's not something you wanted to hear?" Stiles guessed, pulling back. "You weren't horrible to him, were you?"

Erica shook her head. "No, we just asked for a little time, but--" She sucked in a deep breath and blurted, "I think I love him too, but I love Boyd andIfeellikeI'mbetrayinghim."

Stiles held his hands up. "Woah," he said, "slow down. Let's take this one step at a time. You love Isaac _and_ Boyd?"

"I never thought about it with Isaac, because I love Boyd, more than I've ever loved anyone," Erica said, sinking down on Stiles's bed. "But I do. I love him and Boyd, but I still feel like I'm betraying Boyd because I know Boyd loves me, but I don't know if he loves Isaac like that, and--" Erica huffed. "Dammit, Isaac," she muttered under her breath, scrubbing at her face.

"I think you need to talk to Boyd," Stiles said carefully, coming to sit beside her. "How did he react when Isaac told you?"

"Boyd never reacts much to anything when it's not just me and him," Erica confessed. "But I think... I think he might have been a little relieved."

"Relieved?" That sounded promising, didn't it?

Erica nodded. "But I haven't talked to him yet," she admitted. "I pretty much came straight here."

Why wasn't Stiles surprised? "Well then you should go talk to him," he told Erica. "And whatever happens, remember that you aren't betraying Boyd by loving someone else as well as him. You'd only be betraying him if you let him think you still loved him when you didn't."

Erica mulled that over for a long moment before nodding definitively. "You're right," she decided. "Thanks, Stiles." She pecked him on the cheek and strode for the door, pausing to add, "Derek really cares for you, you know. He'll wait as long as you want him to, but you're it for him. And that has nothing to do with you being an Omega or his soulmate or whatever you've gotten into your head."

Stiles winced, but didn't try to hide from her. "I know that," he said quietly. "I just wish I could say the same about myself."

Erica offered him an encouraging smile. "You're a smart man, Stiles-- you'll figure it out."

Stiles managed to offer a weak smile in return. "Thanks, Erica. Now go get your men!"

* * *

The only warning Derek got the next full moon that shit was going to happen was a cracked branch before gunshots filled the air. One bullet slammed into his shoulder, and he could feel the burn of wolfsbane immediately. " _Run!_ " he howled; most of the pack followed his order, sprinting in the opposite direction while Derek and a few other wolves headed for the source of the bullets.

Derek had to lean heavily on Boyd and Mark on the way back to the pack house once everything was done. "We need wolfsbane," Boyd ordered, looking to Mary, who disappeared into the house.

Stiles flew out of the door before Mary could reach it, a baggie of powdered wolfsbane in hand. "I've got it, I've got it!" he cried, sprinting across the lawn to Derek and Boyd. "What the fuck happened?!" He'd tried to follow Derek when they'd run off, but Erica and Peter, of all people, had dragged him back to safety, and he'd been going out of his mind ever since.

"Rogue hunters," Boyd said shortly, taking the lighter Peter tossed him and igniting the powder before cramming it into the bullet wound in Derek's chest. Derek let out a roar of pain, but Boyd didn't flinch. He glanced up at Stiles, gesturing with one hand for the Omega to come closer. "Hold it in."

Stiles did as he was told, but didn't close his mouth. "And?" he demanded. "Are they gone? Are they coming? _Is he gonna be okay_?" His voice cracked on the last word, his desperation apparent, and he didn't even try to hide it.

"Yes, no, and yes," Boyd answered calmly, wincing as Isaac tended to his wounds. "He got shot twice, but these hunters obviously weren't expecting a pack as big as ours; they didn't have enough wolfsbane in their bullets. He'll be fine once it’s burned out."

"We should get him inside," Stiles realised. He was shaking, and his wolf's whining was utterly drowned out by the clamour in his head. "Mark, can you help me?"

Mark glanced at Boyd, who nodded. The other wolf helped Stiles get Derek back upright and into the house on the couch. "Chris will need to be notified," Boyd said as he followed them. "Peter?"

Peter nodded and slunk away to make the call, and most of the pack broke away too, eager to tend to their wounds in private. That left Isaac and Erica to fuss over Boyd. Isaac had moved over to let Erica help without even thinking about it, and he sighed with relief when he saw that some of the minor scratches had already healed. "God, you scared the shit out of us," he muttered, his brow furrowed.

Boyd snorted softly. "You know I'm Derek's second," he pointed out. "I can't _not_ go with him to fight."

"We're still allowed to worry about you," Erica snapped impatiently. "We love you."

Beside her, Isaac froze.

Erica's choice of words wasn't lost on Boyd, either. "'We'?"

Isaac sighed and looked away. "I know you heard what I said the other day," he said. "And I also know you haven't mentioned it since. So, thanks Erica, but I'd rather just forget about it." He dropped the baggie of wolfsbane back into Boyd's hand and made to leave.

Boyd's hand snaked out to grab Isaac's wrist. "Wait," he requested softly. "Please."

Isaac whined low in his throat, but he stilled all the same. "Why?"

"Because I love you, too," he said simply. At Erica's surprised look, he nodded. "Both of you."

Erica closed her eyes, her lips parting on a breath of relief. "Me too," she confessed. "God, I was so scared."

Isaac sank back down to his knees, looking between them with restrained hope in his eyes. "Really?" he asked, more than a little breathless.

Erica turned to Boyd, shared a single long, searching look with him, and nodded. "Really," they said together.

Isaac let out a relieved, choked laugh. "Oh, thank God," he muttered, falling forward and wrapping his arms around them. "Thank you."

Both Boyd and Erica were all too happy to return the affection, and even steal a kiss here and there.

In the next room, Stiles dared to let out a soft laugh from where he was kneeling beside the couch, carding his fingers through Derek's sweat-slick hair. Mark had left once he'd made sure his Alpha was comfortable, presumably to seek out his own family, and Stiles hadn't moved since except to edge ever closer to Derek. "Sounds like those three finally pulled their heads out of their asses," he whispered, the words oddly strangled. He didn't even know if Derek could hear him; he hadn't opened his eyes since they'd brought him into the house.

Derek, who'd been on the verge of drifting off, cracked one eye open. "Good," he murmured. "Took 'em long enough."

"Yeah," Stiles breathed, his eyes stinging even as he fought to smile for Derek. "How are you feeling?"

"Shitty," Derek grunted. "Forgot how much wolfsbane bullets hurt."

Stiles made a sympathetic sound and stilled his hand in Derek's hair. "You're on the mend now. I'll leave you to rest," he said softly, though he knew he wouldn't be going far.

Derek's wolf whined, the sound emerging from his own throat. He fumbled for Stiles's wrist, grasping it. "Please don't," he whispered, pleading.

Stiles froze beneath Derek's touch, but he wasn't tense, wasn't afraid or unwilling; he was relieved. "Okay," he soothed, settling back into a more comfortable position. "Okay. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Derek sighed, relieved. "Promise?"

"Promise," Stiles repeated, sliding his hand back into Derek's hair. "Now please get some rest."

Derek hummed happily, nodding slightly and leaning into Stiles's touch. "Will do," he murmured, letting himself relax.

Stiles stayed true to his word, and barely moved a muscle while Derek slept.

* * *

Derek didn't wake up for several hours, and when he did, there was a strange weight laying across his stomach, and something appeared to have taken his hand hostage. "Mmph," Derek grunted, struggling to lift his head-- the sight that greeted him almost took his breath away. Stiles had made good on his promise, had apparently stayed by Derek's side through the rest of the night, and had even fallen asleep himself; Stiles was the source of the weight on his stomach, and the captor of Derek's fingers, which were also asleep. A smile crossed Derek's face, and he reached up with his free hand to stroke through Stiles's hair gently.

Stiles woke with a start, flailing his way into a heap on the floor before bouncing up again, ready for a fight. "Whatisit?" he slurred, his eyes wide and only getting wider when they fell on Derek. "You're awake!"

Derek grinned, pushing himself onto his elbows. "Yes, I am," he said, glancing down at his chest-- there was no sign of the bullet wound from the night before. "Glad that's gone."

"Me too," Stiles sighed, his gaze lingering for a few seconds too long on the blood still staining Derek's shirt. When he finally managed to look away, he found himself suddenly angry, furious even, and he smacked his hand down on Derek's shoulder. "You almost fucking died last night, you dumbass son of a bitch!"

Derek winced, rubbing at his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said contritely. "But there were hunters. I'm the Alpha-- I had to be there, to protect my pack."

"That doesn't mean you get to be a big reckless asshole!" Stiles cried, indignant. "You just said it yourself, you're the _Alpha_. You have to protect your pack, not _abandon_ it!"

"I didn't abandon my pack!" Derek retorted. "I was fighting to protect it, Stiles."

"That's not what I meant!" Stiles huffed, frustrated and impatient, with himself more than anything, and tried again. "If you had _died_ , because of your stupid lack of regard for your own hide, _then_ you would have abandoned us."

Derek sighed, pushing himself fully upright. "I don't have a lack of regard for my own hide," he said gently. "But my worry for myself is far outweighed by my love for my pack and my duty to it. An Alpha protects their pack with their own life if necessary, and I will do everything in my power to make sure my pack is safe. I can't be my first priority-- the pack has to be."

Stiles' anger dissipated as quickly as it had risen, and he deflated with a sigh, his gaze dropping to where his hands were twisting in his lap. "I know," he sighed. "I know that. I just... You're my-- _our_ priority, and I can't imagine what we'd do without you."

Derek reached out, taking Stiles's hands in his. "I'm sorry for worrying you," he said solemnly. "And I have no intention of ever going into a fight and not trying to protect myself as well, but if it comes down to it, the pack has to come first, no matter what."

"I understand," Stiles promised, daring to look up into Derek's eyes. "I was just scared."

Derek hesitated before reaching up to cup Stiles's cheek in one hand, his thumb running over the top of his cheek. "I'm sorry," he repeated. He didn't know what else to say.

Stiles closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, his wolf settling for the first time in weeks. "I love you," he sighed.

Derek froze, his breath catching in his throat. "Stiles?"

"You heard me," Stiles said softly, meeting Derek's gaze.

"So you're sure, now?" Derek asked, searching Stiles's expression.

Stiles sighed. "My wolf's been freaking out for weeks, but after you got shot last night and then ran off like a big dumb hero, I was frantic," he explained. "I nearly went out of my mind, and that wasn't my wolf, Derek, that was me. I held your hand all night because I needed to know you were still breathing, not because my wolf was making me feel that way."

Derek could hardly believe what he was hearing; surely he had to be dreaming. "So..."

"So, I love you," Stiles said simply, his heartbeat starting to quicken as doubt crept in. "And if you still want me..."

"I do," Derek said hastily, wanting to reassure Stiles. "I do-- I love you, too. I just didn't think..."

"I know, and I'm so sorry," Stiles murmured. "I just needed some time to think, to... get my head around everything. But I understand now." He brought a hand up to touch Derek's face, smiling softly. "We may be mates, but that doesn't mean my feelings are manufactured. It just means that, with a bit of luck, I get to keep you."

Derek returned the smile, leaning into Stiles's touch. "You do," he said softly. "No matter what, I'm yours."

Stiles' heart actually skipped a beat, and he leaned in to press his lips to Derek's. "Ditto," he whispered, grinning, when they broke apart.

* * *

Stiles and Derek were utterly inseparable over the next few days. The pack quickly grew sick of seeing them all over each other, Stiles sitting on Derek's lap and kissing him at every opportunity, but they had to admit that it was cute; no one was complaining that their Alpha and his mate were finally happy. But with the PDA turned up full blast, it was getting harder to part from Derek each night. Stiles' wolf whined miserably whenever he bid Derek goodnight and retreated to the basement, and Stiles honestly couldn't blame it.

Stiles's wolf wasn't the only miserable one; Derek's whined just as much each night. It quickly got to the point where Derek grasped Stiles's wrist in his hand one night and asked, "Sleep with me?"

Stiles snorted. "Not if you don't buy me dinner first."

Derek rolled his eyes, a smile playing about his lips. "Not like that. Just sleeping."

Stiles smiled back. "Really?"

Derek nodded. "I hate not waking up next to you," he confessed.

"Me too," Stiles admitted, twisting his wrist in Derek's hold until he could twine their fingers together. "I'm so down for all the sleepy snuggles you can offer."

Derek grinned, tugging Stiles into his bedroom. "Come on, then."

* * *

It was utterly delightful, falling asleep in Derek's arms. Stiles had never felt safer, or more content, even when he got too hot at around four o'clock in the morning and had to kick the covers to the floor just so that they could keep touching. That was the only time he woke up; otherwise, he slept straight through, and his first thought upon waking was that he couldn't ever remember sleeping so restfully. His second thought, when he opened his eyes, was that he was colourblind.

" _What the fuck_!" he shrieked - or at least, he tried to. All that came out was a particularly loud bark. Derek startled awake, shooting upright in bed, eyes flashing and growling. It quickly became apparent what had startled him, and he stared in confusion at the wolf in his bed for a moment before the realization hit. "Stiles? Holy shit, you did it."

_Did what?_ Stiles thought frantically, barking again. _Why can't I..?_ He looked down at himself then, and found that he was covered in fur. Soft, thick fur, and he had paws and whiskers and... Oh God, he had a tail! Stiles turned in a circle, trying to see it, but caught only the barest glimpse. He turned again, and again, and again, speeding up as though that would allow him a better look.

Derek couldn't help but laugh, reaching out to steady Stiles. "Hang on there, bud," he grinned. "You'll make yourself dizzy. Just sit down for a moment, okay?"

Stiles sat obediently, if somewhat reluctantly, his tail thumping against the mattress in time with his heartbeat.

Derek smiled, letting one hand come up to scratch behind Stiles's ear. "You're very cute," he mused. "I haven't seen a wolf with these markings."

Stiles cocked his head to the side, even as he fought the urge to spazz and flop onto the bed like a goddamn puppy beneath Derek's hands. _What markings?_

Derek took a shot at what Stiles was asking about and held up a finger, grabbing his phone from the charger and taking a picture with the camera to show him later. "Do you want to try shifting, or you want to go show off?"

Stiles was back on his feet in an instant, barking and wagging his tail: his answer was obvious.

Derek laughed, climbing out of the bed and opening the door for Stiles. "Let's go, then."

Stiles flew out of the room and down the stairs, barking loud enough to wake the dead. Isaac, Erica and Boyd wandered into the hall, looking curious; it was Erica's jaw that dropped first.

"Oh my God, is that _Stiles_?"

Derek nodded, grinning. "Yeah; he shifted in the middle of the night, apparently."

"That is _amazing_!" Isaac crowed, kneeling down to pet an enthusiastic Stiles, who nearly knocked him over when he jumped up to lick his face. "Stiles, you look great!"

Boyd and Erica crouched down on either side of Isaac; Boyd studied Stiles for a moment with a smile on his face. "Lean, but not skinny," he commented. "He compliments you, Derek."

Derek grinned, nodding. "He does. In every way."

Stiles made a playful sound and licked Boyd too, before dancing back to Derek and pressing against his legs, more like a cat than a wolf.

Erica noticed. "Someone needs to tell him he's a canine," she teased.

Derek chuckled, scratching Stiles behind the ear again. "I'm sure he'll figure it out," he said. "Come on, Stiles; the rest of the pack is in the living room."

Stiles spent the rest of the morning playing with the pack. Lysa's babies, who had managed to shift into their human forms for the first time only a week ago, now found delight in tugging on Stiles' ears and waving their chubby fists in his face. He gave Ellie a bath without even thinking about it, just following his instincts, and when he realised what he'd done he backed away, ears flattened and tail between his legs, until Lysa laughed and offered Toby up next.

But it wasn't just the babies who joined in. Everyone wanted a turn giving Stiles belly rubs and petting him and then letting him chase them through the house when he realised the indignity of it all. He may have been a fierce wolf, but belly rubs felt really good, okay? He was wrestling with Isaac, who had dared to call him a _good dog_ , when they knocked over a pile of the twins' toys, and Stiles discovered a small, squishy ball amidst the mess. Dog stereotypes be damned, he grabbed it between his teeth and abandoned Isaac, setting it at Derek's feet instead. He sat back on his haunches then, his tail thumping the floor, and decided to see how his puppydog eyes worked in this form.

Derek looked from the ball at his feet to Stiles, who was positively begging. "Really?" he asked, arching a brow. When Stiles didn't move, Derek reached down, picked up the ball, and then tossed it. "Fetch."

Stiles took off after the ball, snatched it up from where it had landed behind the couch and ran back to Derek, depositing it straight back into his hand.

"Oh my God, that's adorable!" Erica announced, only laughing harder when Stiles growled at her.

"No pictures," Derek warned, glaring at Mary who guiltily put away the digital camera.

Stiles wasn't sure he agreed, but he couldn't exactly comment like this. Instead, he nosed at Derek's hand until he threw the ball again and then chased it from the room.

* * *

The pack spent most of the morning playing with Stiles, but eventually they all tired themselves out (Derek didn't blame Mary for snapping a picture of Toby and Ellie curled up next to Stiles, each holding a paw as they slept). Derek approached Stiles after Lysa took the twins for their nap. "You wanna try shifting back now?" he asked quietly.

Stiles nodded and sat down, his tail no longer wagging wildly but instead sweeping contentedly from side to side. He'd enjoyed the morning, the easy simplicity that came with being a wolf, but he was ready to be a human again. He closed his eyes and let out a breath, concentrating on loosing his wolf and pulling it back, getting it under control. It whined, and he whined, too; he understood, but this was something that had to be done.

It took him a few minutes, but when he opened his eyes again he saw the blue of Derek's jeans, and grinned. " _Awesome_."

Derek grinned, too, handing Stiles a pair of sweatpants. "Well done," he praised.

Stiles took them gratefully and stepped into them, tightening the strings around his waist; they were Derek's pants. "That was _so cool_!" he gushed. "I mean I have no idea how it happened and I don't know if I could do it again, but oh my God! I've never had so much fun in my life! The colour blind thing was a bit of a shock, though."

Derek laughed. "It always is the first few times," he reassured Stiles. "And you know you can do it; that means we can work on you doing it at will."

Stiles grinned. "Good, 'cause I really want to run with you like that."

"So do I," Derek said with a matching grin. "There's nothing like it."

* * *

They didn't get much time to work on Stiles' new shift over the next few days. Lysa and her mate were celebrating their anniversary, which meant that they required a lot of alone time, and Stiles had offered to babysit. The others helped too, of course, but even now that they'd managed their first shift, the twins were happiest when they were surrounded by Stiles' scent. It was kind of cute, really, although it was eating into his time with Derek.

Derek, who had started making himself scarce whenever Stiles was with the twins, only to reappear a few minutes later and watch him furtively from behind, like Stiles didn't know instinctively that he was there. Stiles didn't quite understand it, but when he noticed that his scent and the babies' was starting to mingle, he thought he might have an idea. He approached Derek after he'd put the twins down for a nap, found him not too far away from the nursery because he was a massive creeper. "Hey," he said quietly, jerking his head to indicate that they should head into their bedroom. "Can we talk?"

Derek hesitated, but nodded. He knew he'd been acting oddly; that was probably why Stiles wanted to talk. "Sure."

Stiles waited until he'd shut the door behind them before continuing. "Am I overstepping my boundaries?" he asked, his gaze on the floor. "Should I stop looking after the twins?"

"What? No, they love you," Derek reassured Stiles. "And Lysa and Mark really appreciate you looking after them. You're not overstepping any boundaries."

Stiles' wolf whined, and the sound came out of his own mouth. "Then why do you keep looking at me like I'm doing something wrong?"

Derek followed his instincts, moving forward to wrap Stiles in his arms. "You're not," he said, burying his face in the crook of Stiles's neck. "You're not doing anything wrong; this is on me, I'm just being stupid."

Stiles sighed, taking comfort from Derek's scent as much as his touch. "Being stupid about what?"

"I'm jealous," Derek admitted quietly. "Of Lysa and her mate. I want pups, but I know you don't want to carry any, and I respect that."

Stiles froze in Derek's arms. "You... want cubs?"

Derek nodded slightly. "Yeah," he admitted, pulling back a little. "I do. But like I said, you don't want to carry any, and I respect that."

"Now," Stiles whispered. "What about later? Will it be a dealbreaker?"

"No," Derek said with confidence. "That would never be anything big enough to make me not want you, or love you."

_Right answer_. Stiles pulled back then, and gave Derek a soft smile. "I might not be _completely_ averse to carrying our cubs," he admitted.

Derek looked at Stiles in shock. "You-- Really?" he asked, hating how pathetically hopeful he sounded but unable to do anything about it.

"Not now," Stiles clarified quickly. "Not right now. But, yeah, someday." He looked away. "It's different, being told that if you let some faceless guy in your future violate your body in ways you can't even imagine, you can have his babies; that that's what your body's been made for. But knowing that it would be you, that it would be _our_ babies, that's something else entirely. It doesn't sound like a violation anymore."

Derek smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to Stiles's lips. "When you feel ready," he promised.

Stiles smiled and melted back into Derek's hold. "I love you," he whispered.

* * *

Their conversation didn't really change much; they were still physically affectionate, still spent a lot of time together, and still shared a bed at night, but Derek couldn't get rid of the little bit of hope that'd taken root in the back of his mind, that maybe he'd actually get to have this, to have something good and be able to keep it for a change.

He and Stiles hadn't done anything yet, but Derek thought that might change one night a few weeks after their conversation about having pups. They were laying bed together-- that was nothing new-- but tonight their shirts had gone missing (the fan wasn't working too well to cool off the room and the air conditioner had quit) and they were lazily making out, their hands roaming along each other's skin. Derek let one hand run down Stiles's side to his hip, the fingertips teasing under his waistband. "Is this okay?" he asked in a whisper.

Stiles' stomach lurched, but not in the unpleasant way he was used to. "I think so," he breathed.

"Tell me if you want to stop, and I will," Derek promised before letting his hand move lower, inching under the waistband to gently caress the skin there. He reached for one of Stiles's hands with his other one, bringing it to Derek's own hip. "You can touch too, you know."

Stiles curled his fingers around the jut of Derek's hip, marveling at how soft his skin was, and breathed out a shaky exhale against his mouth. "I don't really know what I'm doing," he confessed quietly.

The corner of Derek's lip twitched. "Three guesses to what I'm going to suggest you listen to."

"The _Fifty Shades_ audiobook?" Stiles snarked, smirking.

Derek made a face. "That book is shit and you know it," he retorted. "Next guess."

"A mix tape you have lovingly created for me full of songs about sex?"

Derek laughed. "Interesting idea, but no," he answered, grinning.

Stiles sighed dramatically. "Then I have no idea. You'll have to tell me."

Derek leaned in to press a quick kiss to Stiles's lips. "Instinct," he declared, still smiling. "I feel like you should know this by now."

Stiles' lips quirked up at the corners. "I do," he said softly, letting his own fingers dip beneath Derek's waistband. "Right now, they're telling me to keep going."

Derek leaned in for another soft kiss before curling his fingers around the edge of Stiles's pants and tugging them down just a bit to expose the cut of Stiles's hips. Derek let his fingers trace the muscle before slowly working his way down Stiles's jaw, neck, and chest, pausing just above his navel. "Can I?"

Stiles was breathing hard, his head spinning in a decidedly good way. "What are you asking?" he panted.

"I want to taste you," Derek said, glancing up at Stiles. "I want to touch you-- want to make you feel good."

Everything in Stiles _throbbed_ with how good that sounded. "Okay," he breathed, throwing an arm over his face. "Yes, Derek, please."

Derek smiled, tugging Stiles's pants down and helping the other wolf slip out of them; he tossed the clothing over the side of the bed, not caring where it ended up. He did the same with Stiles's underwear, and then gently coaxed Stiles's legs apart so that he had space to settle in comfortably between them; Derek wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon, not until he was done worshiping Stiles the way he deserved to be. "Fuck," Derek breathed, his gaze caught by the curls covering Stiles's mound, already damp. "Christ, you're beautiful."

Stiles whined and screwed his eyes shut beneath his arm, his legs tensing as they tried to close again. "Don't," he begged weakly. "I'm not."

"You are," Derek insisted quietly, shifting up so that he could kiss Stiles. "Even if you can't see it, you are-- every single part of you is beautiful to me."

"You have to say that," Stiles insisted, but he pulled his arm away so that he could look at Derek. "You don't have to, y'know. I can barely stand to touch it sometimes."

Derek shook his head, smiling. "I don't have to say that," he corrected gently. "And I want to-- there is no part of you I don't want, okay? I want everything you're willing to give me."

Stiles breathed in through his nose, and nodded as he let it back out. "Okay," he whispered. "Okay, I-- I trust you."

Derek's expression softened, and he leaned down to kiss Stiles once more before moving back down the bed and settling in against the mattress. "Tell me if you don't like anything, okay?"

"I will," Stiles promised, laying back. He wasn't sure he could look at Derek while they did this.

"Good," Derek purred, leaning in to nose through Stiles's curls while he slipped one finger between the folds of Stiles's cunt, gathering the wetness there and sliding up to slowly rub over his clit.

Stiles' hips jerked, his breath hitching in his throat, and he managed to gasp out an awed little " _Oh_." One more rub of Derek's finger had his thighs going lax, his legs falling open with a soft sigh.

Derek took the invitation, lowering his head just that little bit farther needed to put his mouth where his hand was, flicking his tongue over Stiles's clit, spreading his folds for easier access.

"Oh my God," Stiles breathed, reaching up to curl his fingers around the headboard. " _Fuck_ , Derek."

Derek smiled, shifting slightly so that he was a little more comfortable before throwing himself back into his current occupation, which was to give Stiles the most pleasurable experience he could. He'd never done this with anyone, so he was following his instincts just as much as Stiles was, but hopefully they'd have time to figure out what worked best. He focused most of his attention on Stiles's clit, alternating between sucking, licking, and flicking, varying his rhythm and pressure as he figured out exactly what Stiles liked.

By this point Stiles was tossing his head restlessly against the pillow, broken moans spilling from his lips as easy as anything. When Derek did something he liked especially, he was rewarded with a little jerk of Stiles' hips and a gasped few words, but for the most part he was pretty incoherent - until Derek gave a particularly sharp suck on his clit. Then Stiles lost his voice altogether, and the hand that wasn't gripping the headboard moved down until he could slide his fingers into Derek's hair, his hips rocking up against Derek's mouth in a silent plea for more.

Derek took his cue from Stiles, repeating the action again and again, mixing it with other slower, more gentle ones as well. He really liked the noises Stiles was making, he decided, and set about trying to coax more from him.

Stiles didn't know if he was in heaven or hell. What Derek was doing felt _so good_ , better than anything he could ever do to himself, but he wasn't sure if it was enough. His hips were moving with purpose now, rocking in time with Derek's rhythm, and he had his eyes screwed shut, every muscle in his body tensed as he desperately chased his orgasm. He'd never come without directly touching his clit before, but even as he pulled on Derek's hair and whined for _yes_ and _please_ and _more_ , he couldn't ask for what he needed; he didn't even know what he'd be asking _for_.

But then, right when Stiles thought he was about to explode, Derek flicked Stiles' clit with his tongue and gave another hard suck, and with an almost startled gasp of, "Oh, oh, _oh_!", Stiles came at last.

Derek gentled Stiles through his orgasm, finally pulling away when Stiles tugged at his hair. "Good?" he asked, smiling.

Stiles covered his face with his hands, his legs closing as soon as Derek pulled back enough to allow it. "Amazing," he mumbled, his cheeks burning behind his fingers.

Derek licked his lips, chasing the taste of Stiles before reaching for Stiles's hands, taking them in his and pressing soft kisses to the knuckles. "Good," he murmured, smiling.

Stiles' smile when he looked into Derek's eyes was shy and a little shaky. "I'm sorry for, like, fucking your face a little bit there," he said, his voice small. "And also for pulling your hair. I didn't suffocate you, did I?"

Derek smiled and shook his head. "It was perfect," he said with certainty, leaning in for a kiss.

Stiles hesitated for only a moment before accepting the kiss, moaning when he tasted himself on Derek's lips. "God," he sighed when they broke apart. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Derek promised, unable to stop smiling.

Stiles was in much the same position. "Is it your turn now?" he asked.

Derek hesitated. "I'm okay if you don't want to-- you're not obliged to get me off."

Stiles quirked one eyebrow. "I think I know my way around a dick," he teased. "I want to, if you're okay with it."

Derek couldn't help but laugh, nodding. "If you want to, then go for it," he said, grinning.

Stiles leaned up to kiss Derek again, and then reached between them to push Derek's pants down to his knees. "Might need to help me out from here."

Derek rolled to the side to kick his pants off, then leaned back on his elbows. "All yours," he said, gesturing to his crotch with a grin.

Stiles pressed himself against Derek's side, kissed him soundly. "It's been a while," he reminded him, even as he trailed a hand down Derek's stomach, fingers teasing at his treasure trail. "I might be a bit rusty."

Derek huffed a laugh at the ticklish sensation before kissing Stiles back. "I'll let you know how you're doing," he promised.

And with that simple reassurance Stiles licked his palm and wrapped it around Derek's dick, giving it a couple of experimental pumps. It was quite something, getting his hand on a cock for the first time in months, but he quickly found that he hadn't forgotten what he liked, at least; a skilful twist of the wrist here, a thumb teasing at the slit there, maybe play with the foreskin a little. Now all he had to do was work out what Derek liked.

Derek had never had someone else's hand on his dick, but he couldn't bring himself to wish otherwise, because Stiles was _perfect_. Derek had to ask him to tighten his grip a little, and give a couple of other tips, but Stiles was a very fast learner and soon had Derek right on the edge of coming until one more twist of the wrist, thumb skimming over his slit pushed him over and he came with a hoarse shout in the shape of Stiles's name.

Stiles worked him through it, breathing almost as hard as Derek was. He was wet again, but wasn't up for another round; he was more than content to press his lips to Derek's cheek and snag a couple of tissues from the nightstand, clean up the mess they'd made on Derek's stomach. "So," he sighed conversationally once he'd successfully thrown tissues into the wastepaper basket - thank you werewolf reflexes. "You make _great_ noises when you come."

Derek chuckled breathlessly, pulling Stiles in closer to him and wrapping his arms around the Omega. "So do you," he returned, kissing him.

Stiles hummed into the kiss before settling down against Derek with a yawn. "What are the chances that the entire pack heard those noises?" he asked.

Derek flushed. "Probably pretty good," he admitted. "But it's fair payback for everyone else. They are rarely... discreet."

Stiles groaned and hid his face in Derek's shoulder. "We need better soundproofing."

Derek chuckled. "We really do," he agreed. "Come on, let's just sleep for now, yeah?"

Stiles nodded, his eyes already closing. "Love you," he mumbled.

Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles's brow. "Love you, too," he murmured.

* * *

Things became a lot easier after that, in terms of intimacy. It took a long time for Stiles to be completely comfortable with the way Derek viewed his body - like it was beautiful, something desirable and worthy of worship, for Christ sake - but after two full moons had been spent chasing each other around fully shifted and the aftermaths had been spent fucking like bunnies, Stiles was starting to understand it. He didn't think he would ever see himself that way, but he believed that Derek did and that was enough. Enough that Stiles was able to find his centre and achieve the full shift with relative ease only a few weeks after they'd been intimate with each other for the first time. Stiles had never been happier or more at peace with himself than he was right now.

Which was why he was able to take it in stride when, one night after a particularly busy day of chasing after the twins, three fingers buried deep in Stiles and doing truly _magical_ things, Derek started talking dirty. He got his mouth as close to Stiles' ear as he could and started growling the most filthy things, about how he couldn't wait to get his cock in Stiles, come in him, come in him until he was full, until he was _pregnant_ ; couldn't wait to fuck him while he was round and heavy with their cubs. In fact, Stiles had not only taken Derek's words in stride, but he'd come, all but screaming, without Derek so much as touching his clit. Derek was pretty much the same, exploded almost as soon as Stiles got a hand on him, spilling all over Stiles' stomach, and for the first time Stiles wished he had done so inside him.

He didn't share that thought with Derek, but from the look in his eyes as he drew Stiles close and kissed him soundly afterwards, he knew anyway. Stiles fell asleep in Derek's arms perfectly content and without a moment's thought for who might have overheard.

* * *

Peter was jealous. Almost insanely so; how dare that little brat go crawling back to Derek when Derek had been the one to force the change on Stiles, to rip him away from his family, and Peter had been the only one trying to help! _He_ should be the one that Stiles was mating with, not Derek.

Maybe, if he couldn't have Stiles, Derek couldn't either. The thought gave Peter a plan, which he put into action the next day, approaching Stiles with a friendly attitude. "You seem to be taking to the life of an Omega very easily."

Stiles eyed Peter warily. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" he asked.

"Of course," Peter said, feigning hurt. "You and I have had our differences, but I am still glad to see you settling in. I imagine Derek has helped quite a bit with your... acclimation."

Stiles smiled despite himself. "Derek's been great," he agreed.

Peter hummed. "I'm sure your... exchanged anatomy has done a great deal to help him. He never was comfortable with men, only women." That was not _entirely_ true, but it was close enough that it was easy for Peter to conceal the lie.

Stiles blinked. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "What do _you_ think it means?" he countered. "Derek's always been more comfortable around women; make of that what you will."

"But I'm his mate," Stiles countered. "Surely it wouldn't have mattered even if I did still have a dick."

"Surely he told you that mates don't have to have a sexual relationship," Peter said, feigning surprise.

"No, he did," Stiles answered, suddenly feeling a lot less confident. "But..."

"But what?" Peter pushed.

"But I'm a man," Stiles said firmly. "Anatomy aside, I'm a man. Derek knows that."

"You may be a man, but you've got the pussy of a woman," Peter replied. "I'm just saying, Derek never showed interest in a man before you."

"But I'm his _mate_!" Stiles insisted, getting frustrated. "Gender is irrelevant in the grand scheme of all that predestination stuff!"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Obviously you weren't listening when I said mates don't have to be sexual."

"He wants it to be sexual because he loves me," Stiles said weakly, like he was trying to convince himself rather than Peter. "Not because..."

"Are you really sure about that?" Peter questioned; he could almost _taste_ Stiles's discomfort. It was exquisite.

Stiles looked away, his heart pounding, and tried to collect himself. When he met Peter's gaze again his eyes were cold. "Fuck off, Peter," he snapped. "I know your game and I don't buy it for a second." They both heard the lie.

* * *

Stiles was distant for the rest of the day, and Derek didn't get a chance to question him about it until that evening as they were getting ready for bed. "You okay?" he asked, concerned-- he wanted to reach out to Stiles, but he wasn't sure of how that would be received.

Stiles sighed. "Yeah," he lied, climbing into bed to avoid looking at Derek. "How are you?"

"Worried," Derek admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Stiles shrugged. "Nothing to worry about."

"I just-- did I do something?" Derek asked; he couldn't shake the feeling that Stiles was upset with him for some reason. 

"No," Stiles answered, still not meeting Derek's gaze. "You didn't do anything."

"Okay," Derek said quietly, settling into bed. The few inches between him and Stiles felt like miles.

* * *

Stiles waited a couple of days before doing something about what Peter had said. He took the time to think about it, turn Peter's words and accusations over in his head until they were all he could hear, going around and around in his mind on a constant loop. There was no truth to any of it - was there? Stiles hated himself for not being sure anymore, and he was sure that Derek would, too. So he opted for a safer course. Rather than go straight to Derek himself with his doubts, Stiles would ask someone else, someone who knew Derek better than anyone in the pack.

"Hey Boyd," Stiles said casually, dropping into a seat at the kitchen table. As the Alpha's second, it was surprisingly difficult to get Boyd alone, so Stiles had resigned himself to getting up at six am and was feeling more than a little rough around the edges. "Can I ask you a question?"

Boyd looked up from where he was digging through the fridge for an apple to eat on his morning patrol. Stiles looked serious, he noted, and nodded.

Stiles didn't see any point in beating about the bush. "Did Derek ever show any interest in guys before me?"

Boyd thought for a moment. "No," he said finally. "Never showed much of an interest in anyone."

"Not even girls?" Stiles pressed.

"There was one," Boyd admitted after another moment's thought. "Don't think anything came of it, but that was before he was the Alpha, so I could be wrong."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, hating the way his heart betrayed how nervous he suddenly felt.

Boyd shrugged one shoulder. "He and the girl-- I can't remember her name now-- hung out a bit when her pack was passing through."

”And he liked her?" Stiles asked. "Like, he had feelings for her?"

Boyd shrugged. "You'd have to ask him. Her pack stayed for about a month, but he didn't seem particularly cut up about her leaving."

"So it was just physical," Stiles surmised. _Fuck his life_.

"If there was anything at all," Boyd shrugged.

"Right." Stiles' mind was working overtime, imagining Derek and this nameless, faceless girl entwined just like he and Stiles had been so many times before. He wondered if Derek pictured her face whenever he had his fingers inside Stiles. "Thank you."

On impulse, Boyd reached over to lay a hand on Stiles's shoulder. "Derek loves _you_ ," he said firmly, holding Stiles's gaze.

Stiles nodded, looking down at Boyd's arm when meeting his gaze became unbearable. "I know," he said quietly. "I know that. Thanks, Boyd."

Boyd nodded, leaning back. "Talk with him. Relationships don't work if you don't talk."

Stiles managed a weak smile. "I will," he promised.

* * *

The past few days had easily been some of the worst of Derek's life-- not the absolute worst, but they were coming close. Stiles didn't touch him, barely talked to him, but insisted that Derek had done nothing wrong; it was highly upsetting for both him and his wolf, and he was miserable. He didn't even bother trying to talk to Stiles that night, just got undressed and then slipped into the bathroom to brush his teeth before going to sleep.

Stiles knew that he was causing Derek grief - hell, he was causing himself grief - but he just hadn't been ready to talk about what was bothering him until now. By this point, though, he was starting to wonder if Derek would even let him talk about it; if it was too late and he'd already pushed Derek too far away. Derek hadn't even looked at him before he'd disappeared into the bathroom, so Stiles sat down on Derek's side of the bed, fully dressed, to wait. Even if Derek didn't want to talk tonight, he would have to say so to get Stiles to move.

When Derek emerged from the bathroom, he was a bit surprised to see Stiles still fully-dressed. "Stiles?" he hazarded, looking at him curiously.

"Can we talk?" Stiles blurted.

Derek blinked, but nodded. "Of course," he said, sitting down on the bed next to Stiles. "What about?"

"Peter came to see me the other day," Stiles said in lieu of an explanation, preferring instead to just get straight to the point. "He said some pretty heavy stuff."

"Stuff like what?" Derek asked, suddenly worried-- if Peter had been meddling again, that would explain Stiles's distance the past few days.

Stiles looked down at his hands. "Do you think of me as a woman?" he asked.

Derek shook his head. "No," he protested. "I don't. You're a guy, Stiles."

"But do you only have sex with me because I have a woman's parts?" Stiles pressed. 

"I love you," Derek asserted. "I'd still have sex with you if your dick grew back."

"But it's not going to grow back, is it?" Stiles said bitterly. "So you can say that even if it's not true."

"Stiles, what's this about?" Derek asked, still confused. He shifted a little bit closer, his wolf whining at his mate's obvious upset.

"Peter said that you've never shown any interest in guys, and that the only reason you want to sleep with me is because you like pussy," Stiles told him. "And then I asked Boyd and he said that you've never shown any interest in guys too, but that there was this one girl who turned your head, and that was a physical thing rather than an emotional thing. So. It kind of adds up, Derek. The only reason we're not platonic soulmates is because I'm an Omega."

It took Derek a moment to sort through that, and then he took a moment to formulate his answer. "I never really looked at _anyone_ the way I've always looked at you," he told Stiles. "Paige was the only one who came close, but we decided that we didn't want to try the cross-pack dating thing. She mated about a year and a half ago. I never slept with her, never even kissed her, and it had nothing to do with what was between her legs and everything to do with who she was as a person. The same as with you."

"So you're telling me that if I did still have a cock you wouldn't have taken one look at me when you felt the whole mate thing and ran a mile?" Stiles demanded hotly.

"You had a cock when I changed you, didn't you?" Derek shot back. "I felt it then, and I needed you closer; it _never_ occurred to me to run. I was still planning on getting to know you before we decided what to do about this, and I would've been just as happy with a dick to suck as with a pussy to eat out."

”...Oh." Stiles deflated, feeling foolish. "Okay. I... I'm sorry."

Derek moved closer, pulling Stiles into his arms. "It's okay," he promised. "I get why you were worried."

Stiles whined along with his wolf as he melted into Derek's hold, burying his face in Derek's neck. "I shouldn't have let him get to me," he mumbled. "But he sounded so sure and his heartbeat said he wasn't lying, and I got all turned around."

Derek rubbed his cheek along the top of Stiles's head. "Peter is good at telling half-truths. Next time just come talk to me, okay?"

"I'm so sorry," Stiles said again. "I was just scared."

"It's okay," Derek repeated, pulling back so that he could press a kiss to Stiles's cheek. "But I'm not going anywhere, okay? I love you."

"I love you, too," Stiles murmured, gracing Derek with a shaky smile. "Peter's timing is freaking amazing, though."

"Freaking annoying," Derek muttered, frowning. "I'm tempted to go yell at him tomorrow."

Stiles winced. "Please don't," he said. "He's an asshole but he's still your family."

Derek grumbled under his breath. "He hurt you, though."

"I let him hurt me," Stiles corrected. "I should know better by now."

Derek actually growled a bit at that. "Don't blame yourself," he said fiercely. "You're not the one in the wrong here."

"I know that," Stiles said tiredly. "But what is you causing tensions within the pack going to achieve?"

Derek scowled. "I hate it when you get sensible on me," he muttered petulantly. "But if he pulls something like this again I will beat his ass."

Stiles smiled and kissed Derek's cheek. "Okay," he agreed. "I'll hold your eyebrows for you."

* * *

After that, things went back to normal-- well, almost. He and Stiles still hadn't had penetrative sex, but Derek was fine with waiting until Stiles was ready. As it turned out, that was about a month later; Stiles was waiting for him in their bedroom, and looked expectant. "Hey babe," Derek said easily, giving Stiles a kiss. "What's up?"

Stiles smiled into the kiss, winding his arms around Derek's waist to keep him close when they broke apart. "I've been doing some thinking," he said sweetly, toying with the hem of Derek's shirt.

"That's dangerous, you know," Derek teased, smiling. "What about?"

"About Lysa and the twins," Stiles answered. He slipped a hand beneath Derek's shirt, his fingers dancing over the small of his back. "You said you were jealous of them, once. Are you still?"

Derek stilled, looking at Stiles in surprise. "I am, yes," he answered carefully. "Stiles..."

Stiles smiled. "I am, too," he confessed. "I like having the twins running around, but I'd like it even more if we had our own little ones."

Derek sucked in a breath. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Stiles nodded. "I'm ready," he whispered. "I want us to have cubs."

Derek couldn't help himself, lunging forward to tackle Stiles to the bed and kiss him hard. "You're serious?"

Stiles laughed, his arms going around Derek's neck this time as he pulled him into another breathtaking kiss. "Dead serious," he promised.

Derek grinned, nosing along Stiles's jaw. "Do you wanna get started?"

Stiles grinned. "You read my mind."

* * *

Derek had told Boyd what was going to happen, and then he and Stiles had locked themselves in the basement(which had been the first thing to have complete soundproofing) for Stiles's heat. If the sex they'd had before had been amazing, then Derek wasn't entirely sure how either of them survived Stiles's heat. They barely broke apart long enough to eat and use the bathroom for the entire three days of the heat; if Stiles wasn't pregnant after this, Derek would be very, _very_ surprised.

As it turned out, he wasn't-- about a month after the heat, Stiles started experiencing morning sickness, and a quick home pregnancy test(courtesy of both peeing on a stick and a couple of sniffs from different pack members) confirmed everyone's suspicions: Stiles and Derek were expecting.

"How the fuck do I tell my dad?!" Stiles had been delighted to find that he was pregnant, but now that the pack celebrations were over and the fuss had died down, he was being forced to deal with a request to meet from Scott and his dad, and he was freaking out in the middle of his and Derek's bedroom. "How do I explain that I'm having your _baby_?"

"Whoa, hey, come here," Derek said, pulling Stiles into his arms to give him a reassuring hug. "I'm not saying it'll be simple, but we can explain to him about what being an Omega means."

"He's gonna think I'm such a freak," Stiles whimpered into Derek's shirt. "And Scott. _God_."

"Hey," Derek murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Stiles's temple, "remember what I said when you freaked out after you were first changed? They love you."

"Yeah, but will they love the weird freaky baby werewolves that come out of me?" Stiles asked, hating himself for the words even as he said them. "I mean, I don't think our babies will be weird or freaky. That's not--" He made a frustrated sound and fisted his hands in Derek's shirt. " _Fuck_."

Derek just pulled back to kiss Stiles soundly on the mouth. "Stop over thinking this," he said firmly. "Wait until you see their reaction to freak out, okay? I'll be right there with you."

Stiles snorted indelicately. "Really?" he asked. "You're going to stand next to me while I tell my father that you knocked me up?"

"Alpha werewolf, remember?" Derek replied, grinning. "If he feels like taking a few swings at me, then that's fine."

Stiles could see Derek's point. "Okay," he sighed. "Okay. But you're taking most of the blame for this. You _did_ bite me into a dickless, childbearing werewolf, after all. This is all your fault."

"And I take full responsibility," Derek agreed, kissing Stiles again. "But I think they'll both be fine once they have a chance to adjust."

Stiles nodded, his fingers releasing the iron-tight grip they had on Derek's shirt so as to curl around Derek's shoulder. "I trust you," he said softly.

* * *

They met with the sheriff and Scott a week later; their meeting the previous month had been canceled, and they hadn't been able to reschedule it, so this was the first time they'd met in two months. Derek and Stiles walked into the clearing hand in hand, but unlike the other times, they didn't break apart so that Stiles could talk with them alone. Instead, they approached the sheriff and Scott together. "Sir," Derek said, nodding respectfully.

The sheriff was obviously surprised that Derek was addressing him, as were Scott and Chris, but he took it in stride, returning the nod before stepping forward to hug his son. He didn't miss the fact that Stiles kept hold of Derek's hand even then, opting instead to return the hug with one arm. He did the same when it was Scott's turn, too. "Okay, what's going on?" the sheriff asked Stiles.

Stiles blushed. "Dad, can I not even say hello first?"

"There, you've just said it," the sheriff said bluntly. "Now what is going on?"

Stiles shuffled his feet and looked to Derek, searching his face for something he must have found because then he turned back to the sheriff and Scott and said, "You know how me and Derek are mated?"

The sheriff did know. He wasn't happy about it, exactly, but he wasn't unhappy either. He had extended congratulations when Stiles and Derek had told him, in a situation much like this one, but he still wasn't sure what being mated to an Alpha meant, or how it would affect Stiles. Maybe he was about to find out. "Yes."

"Well, umm, there's something we need to tell you."

"What, are you pregnant?" Scott piped up, amused.

When Stiles didn't say anything, only blushed harder and looked back at Derek, the bottom dropped out of the sheriff's stomach. " _What_?"

Derek gave Stiles's hand a reassuring squeeze, taking over the explanation. "When I first gave Stiles the Bite, it changed him. More radically than it does most humans; Stiles became what's known as an Omega," he explained, stressing the first syllable of the last word. "Not like a lone wolf, but a male wolf who could bear children. None of us had any idea that would happen, and we were all shocked by it."

"So, what?" Scott asked, frowning. "You're having assbabies now?"

"Not _ass_ babies," Stiles told him, still refusing to look at either Scott or his dad.

Scott's mouth opened and closed for a moment before he blurted, "You lost your _dick_?!"

"Scott!" Everyone jumped and looked at the sheriff, who was glaring at Scott. "Shut your mouth." Scott did so with a snap, and the sheriff turned back to Stiles. "Is it true?"

Stiles wanted to die. "Yes," he whispered.

"I can't believe it," the sheriff said dully, and Stiles closed his eyes, bracing himself. It would come any moment now, the disgust and the revulsion and the _get away from me, you freak_ and the-- Stiles yelped as he was yanked away from Derek and into a bone-crushing hug. "I'm going to be a grandpa."

Derek had been bracing himself as well, ready to pull Stiles behind himself if things got ugly-- but when the sheriff pulled Stiles into a hug, whispering about how he was gonna be a grandparent, Derek relaxed. "See? I told you not to worry so much," he said, chuckling.

"Fucking know-it-all," Stiles laughed, but the words were a little choked, and when the sheriff finally let him go they saw why: he was crying. "You're sure you're okay with it?" he asked his father.

The sheriff smiled. "I'm not saying the thought of you actually _carrying_ my grandchild isn't a little alien," he acknowledged, "but honestly? I couldn't be happier."

Stiles nodded, grinning, and turned to Scott. "What about you?"

"I don't know," Scott admitted, eyeing Derek distrustfully. "I don't understand it, fully. Are you sure he didn't force this on you?"

Stiles balked. "Scott, I wanted this," he said firmly. "I mean, I _definitely_ didn't ask to become an Omega, but Derek just said he didn't know that would happen. Everything that's happened since then has been my choice."

Derek stepped forward, resting a hand on Stiles's shoulder. "No one had any idea he'd become an Omega. But I _never_ tried to push anything with Stiles; he's been the one to initiate just about everything about our relationship."

Scott relaxed, but he still didn't seem fully convinced. "Then, congratulations, I guess," he said haltingly. Stiles' heart sank.

Derek's arm slid around Stiles's shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. "Thank you," he said, offering a diplomatic smile. "It's only been about a month, so we've still got quite a bit of time to wait."

"Your mom had terrible morning sickness," the sheriff offered, and Stiles winced.

"Yeah, I've definitely inherited that."

The sheriff cut his gaze to Derek. "You're looking after him, right?"

Derek nodded. "I'm doing everything I can, and we have several experienced wolves in the pack who have offered advice as well. Unfortunately the ability to take pain doesn't extend to morning sickness."

The sheriff hummed sympathetically; he understood the futility of Derek's position.

Stiles smiled. "Look at you two, getting all protective."

"Well, you are basically his wife now," Scott said cheerfully. "Barefoot and pregnant and all."

Derek frowned at Scott. "That's as much his choice as mine-- more, even."

"And I am _not_ anyone's wife," Stiles snapped, surprising everyone when a growl was ripped from him.

Scott's eyes widened. "I-- I didn't mean--"

"I don't care. Keep your gender stereotypes away from me."

Derek noticed Chris stiffening from the corner of his eye, and he turned to speak directly in Stiles's ear. "Easy; Scott didn't mean anything by it."

"I'm sorry, man," Scott said earnestly, and Stiles forced himself to relax, embarrassed and frustrated.

"Okay," he said, his gaze flickering to Chris and away again. "It's okay."

Chris gestured Derek over once Stiles seemed like he was back in control. "An Omega?" he asked sharply. "We should have been told."

Derek snorted. "It wasn't necessary for anyone outside of the pack to know," he pointed out. "Omegas are strictly pack business. We're mated, and he's settled in nicely. You have nothing to be concerned about."

"Such a drastic change--"

"Is rare and unpredictable," Derek finished, eyes glinting. "Stiles is perfectly fine, Chris; you have nothing to worry about."

Stiles heard most of the exchange, but was kept from interfering by Scott and his dad, who had all kinds of questions for him about the pregnancy and his life in general. He could tell that Scott wanted to ask about the lack of a dick thing, but was grateful when he refrained; that was not a conversation he wanted to have in front of his dad.

The rest of the visit passed with relative ease, drawing to an end when Stiles started to get tired. "Make sure you call, okay?" Scott insisted as they hugged goodbye, just like he always did. "And we'll arrange the next visit soon, maybe with the rest of the gang. They're gonna freak when they find out you're pregnant!"

Stiles grimaced. "Maybe don't tell anyone else just yet; it's still super early days."

"Which is why you should be taking it easy," the sheriff put in. "Maybe we should put the next visit off for a few months."

Stiles appreciated his father's concern, but promised the both of them that the next visit would go ahead as planned. More goodbyes were said and then the werewolves and the humans parted ways, Stiles grabbing Derek's hand as soon as it was available. "What was that all about?" he asked once they were out of earshot. "Chris sounded mad."

Derek sighed, easily tangling his fingers with Stiles's when his mate reached for his hand. "Chris was still laboring under the idea that wolves try to invade for the chance to mate an Omega," he told Stiles. "He was worried about a problem that has never existed; Omegas are rare and they always mate within the pack they join or are born into."

"Because they don't have a choice or because that's just how it works out?" Stiles asked, interested.

"That's how it works out," Derek answered. "Nowadays most packs are large enough that each pack has a huge amount of territory, and we're spread out. It's not feasible for wolves to travel much, but sometimes they do, if they're not happy with their current pack."

"Cool," Stiles said. "So you put Chris straight? I'm sorry for freaking out a little back there, by the way. He didn't look happy."

Derek nodded, then brought Stiles's hand up so he could press a kiss to his knuckles. "It's fine," he reassured Stiles. "We've got it all sorted now."

Stiles grimaced. "He was mad, wasn't he?"

"Just that I didn't tell him you're an Omega, back when I gave you the Bite," Derek answered. "But he had nothing to worry about, and you were having a hard enough time adjusting, so I didn't see why he needed to be told."

"It didn't affect the treaty, did it?" Stiles asked. "Like, you weren't obligated to tell him?"

Derek shook his head. "I'm obligated to tell him of any threats we learn of," he clarified. "But like I said, there's usually a reason an Omega is in a certain pack."

"Okay," Stiles said, squeezing Derek's hand. "Can you believe how stoked my dad was to be a grandpa?"

Derek grinned. "Yes, I can-- I told you he'd be at least accepting."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to be so smug about it," Stiles sniped, grinning.

Derek chuckled, leaning in to kiss Stiles's temple. "You're right, I'm sorry," he apologized. "But I am really happy that he's so excited."

"Me too," Stiles agreed with a soft smile, his free hand coming to rest on his stomach.

* * *

Things continued fairly smoothly for the next few months. Stiles's stomach grew rounder with the pups-- Derek had sworn he'd heard two heartbeats, and Lysa had confirmed it-- and thankfully the morning sickness went away.

About a week before Stiles was due to shift, however, Peter happened. Again. This time, he took things too far, and when Derek rebuked him, the elder Hale challenged Derek for the title of Alpha.

Stiles was at Derek's side almost immediately, having wrested himself from Erica's protective grip. "Don't do it," he begged, frantic. "Derek, please, it's not worth it."

Derek offered Stiles a tense smile. "This isn't a fight I can back down from," he said, wrapping Stiles in a hug before stepping forward, Boyd taking his place and keeping Stiles from moving. "I accept the challenge," he told Peter, eyes glinting. Peter snarled, shifted, and lunged-- Derek did the same.

The fight wasn't particularly long; Derek was the Alpha, and he was fighting to protect his pack, mate, and pups. Peter was fighting for power, and out of anger. When the opportunity presented itself, Derek took it, ripping Peter's throat out with his teeth.

Stiles was crying by the end, shaking in Boyd's hold, and when it was finally over, when Peter's blood was sprayed across the grass and Derek had shifted back, Boyd released him, murmuring in his ear that he should go to his Alpha. Stiles did exactly that, breaking away from the rest of the pack to run straight into Derek's arms.

Derek was waiting for Stiles, wrapping him in his arms as soon as his mate came close enough and burying his face in Stiles's neck, scenting him to try and bury the scent of Peter's blood.

Stiles clung to Derek, hardly aware of the other pack members filtering back into the house to afford them some privacy. The scenting was rigorous and desperate, and only once they were satisfied that they smelled only of each other did they ease back. Stiles didn't let Derek go far, though. "You're an asshole," he accused, pressing kisses all over Derek's face. "You could have _died_ and you didn't even give me a chance to tell you how much I love you."

"I know, I know," Derek apologized, kissing Stiles back. "I'm sorry, but I just-- this was the last straw, I didn't really think about it."

"You have _got_ to stop running headfirst into life or death situations," Stiles complained, pulling Derek in for a hard kiss on the mouth, Peter's blood be damned, before hugging him fiercely. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Derek chuckled at that. "I promise I'll try to think before I go rushing in," he murmured. "How's that?"

"Perfect," Stiles said. "We have pups to think about now, Derek. We can't leave them without a daddy."

Derek let his hands drift down to rest against the curve of Stiles's stomach, his forehead resting against his mate's. "I know," he whispered, feeling one of them kick against his hand.

Stiles closed his eyes with a sigh. "Are you okay?" he asked after a moment.

"Physically, yes," Derek answered, voice heavy. "Emotionally? Not so much."

"We'll get rid of the body," Boyd said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. To Stiles' surprise, he realised that Boyd wasn't talking to Derek, but to him. "Just take care of your mate, okay?"

Stiles nodded, releasing Derek only to take his hand. "Come on. Let's go inside."

Derek offered Boyd a grateful smile before following Stiles inside. "I need a shower," he muttered.

"I'll start it up," Stiles agreed, taking Derek straight upstairs and into their bedroom. "You want the super fluffy towels?"

Derek nodded, stripping out of his ruined clothes. "Yes, please."

Stiles disappeared into the bathroom, getting the shower on and making sure the towels in question were ready. He laid them out on the rail and returned to the bedroom. "All yours," he said, offering Derek a soft smile.

Derek smiled at Stiles, leaning in for a brief kiss before disappearing for his shower; he only took long enough to scrub himself clean before stepping out and drying off, shutting off the water behind him. He walked into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, and sat down on the bed. "C'mere," he said, reaching a hand out to Stiles. "I just wanna lay down for a bit"

"Of course," Stiles said, taking his hand and allowing Derek to pull him onto the bed. They curled up together in the middle of the mattress, as best as Stiles' sizeable stomach would allow.

Derek sighed, shifting around until he was comfortable, his arms wrapped around Stiles. "He was my uncle," he whispered brokenly. "I just don't understand how..."

Stiles made a soothing sound and stroked Derek's hair. "You did what you had to do," he murmured. "Peter was... There was something wrong with him. You didn't have a choice."

Derek sighed. "I know," he whispered. "I just... He used to be great. Then he started acting weird, and when I got the Alpha power after Mom died... He's been pushing me ever since."

"He knew what he was doing," Stiles agreed, quiet but confident. "Maybe he just couldn't stand the thought of you having what he wanted."

Derek was quiet for a few long moments. "I think he arranged Mom's death," he said quietly. It wasn't a new thought, but this was the first time he'd voiced it.

Stiles couldn't say he was surprised. He tightened his hold on Derek. "What happened?" he asked softly.

"We were never really sure," Derek explained. "Mom, Peter, and a couple of others went hunting, and they were found by a group of rogue hunters, but the way the others reported it... they went straight for Mom, killed her almost instantly with how much wolfsbane they shot her with." It still hurt, thinking about it even years later. "It was like a setup, they didn't care about anyone but her."

"Do you think he expected to inherit the pack?" Stiles asked.

Derek nodded miserably. "It's not uncommon for the power to pass to a brother or sister of the Alpha instead of their children."

"You just deserved it more, I guess," Stiles surmised. "I'm so sorry, Derek."

Derek made an unhappy sound and pressed closer. "I've got you now," he murmured. "And Peter hasn't really been family for years."

"We're starting a new family," Stiles whispered into Derek's hair, reaching between them to take Derek's hand and guide it to his stomach. One of the twins kicked out in greeting. "And we've got the pack behind us. They all love you so much."

"I know," Derek murmured, thumb stroking over Stiles's stomach. "Believe me I am so grateful for that."

"And we're grateful for you," Stiles promised. "I wish I'd gotten to meet your mom, but I'm willing to bet you're making her so proud."

"I hope so."

* * *

Stiles and Derek dealt with Peter's betrayal together for the next week and a half, but at last it was time for Stiles to shift in preparation for the birth of his cubs. Like Lysa, he opted to spend the last few days of his first pregnancy in the den, and Derek often joined him of a night if not throughout the day so that they could curl up together and catch a few hours of sleep. When the time came, he and Derek were alone in the den, and that was exactly what they both needed. Stiles brought their pups into the world with no small amount of effort and agony at just after two o'clock in the morning, and when they emerged later that afternoon, exhausted and smiling and each holding a sleeping wolf cub, even the house itself breathed a sigh of relief.

The next couple of weeks passed by in a daze. Stiles knew from experience that baby werewolves were nothing like baby humans, at least before they had their first shift. As long as they had their parents around, they were more than content to sleep most of the day and, blissfully, all of the night away. Stiles was more than grateful for this; the end of his pregnancy had been rather uncomfortable, and he felt like he had a month's worth of sleep to catch up on. Exhaustion aside, he couldn't remember ever being so happy, or ever seeing Derek smile so much. The pack as a whole seemed to be more relaxed, too, and Stiles liked the effect that had on Derek. With Peter gone and the pups finally here and in his arms, Derek seemed more content than he'd been in a long time, and Stiles thought he looked even more achingly beautiful than usual without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And he told him as much. "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that," he said quietly one evening about a month after the birth, smiling softly from his position in the doorway of the nursery. Derek was inside, cradling one of the twins to his bare chest as he fed her. Stiles moved into the room to join them, lifting a hand to trace a finger lightly over Derek's forehead. "It's like your eyebrows forget how to frown whenever you hold them."

Derek laughed at that, and Miranda glared at him for jostling her. "They're too cute for me to frown at," he said, glancing to where Diane was impatiently awaiting her turn, and taking out her frustration on her pacifier.

Stiles laughed and grabbed the bottle Derek had made up for Diane, scooping her into his arms so that he could feed her. "They are very cute," he agreed. "My dad's gonna love them."

"I think he will," Derek answered, smiling down at Miranda.

"Did Scott say he was coming tomorrow?" Stiles asked. Things had been a little tense between the two friends during the latter months of the pregnancy, Scott still having difficulty understanding and accepting the fact that Stiles had let a strange werewolf knock him up, and Derek had been taking Scott's calls since the birth.

Derek nodded. "He said he'd be there, yeah."

Stiles hummed. "Think they're cute enough to win him over?"

"If they don't do it, then he's not human," Derek swore.

"I second that," Stiles agreed, smiling.

* * *

The next day found both Stiles and Derek heading for the clearing; Derek carried a couple of pairs of sweatpants in a plastic bag, and Stiles kept the pups with them. They reached the clearing at the same time as the humans, and Derek disappeared behind a tree to shift and change before taking the pups so Stiles could do the same.

The sheriff always made some kind of comment whenever they arrived to the clearing as wolves; unlike the pregnancy, Stiles had been excited to tell his father that he'd achieved the full shift, and his father in turn had been openly impressed. This time, however, when Stiles emerged from behind the tree he saw that the sheriff only had eyes for the pups in Derek's arms. They were awake for once, squirming in Derek's hold in their eagerness to acquaint themselves with the new scents all around them. Stiles ached with how much he loved them.

"I forgot you said they would be wolves," the sheriff said, soft and awed.

Stiles smiled and moved to his mate's side. "For the next few months, at least," he said. "Then the real fun starts."

The sheriff hugged Stiles then, and when he pulled back Stiles saw that he had tears in his eyes. "They're beautiful, Stiles. Can I hold them?"

Derek nodded, passing over Miranda since she was just about ready to wriggle out of his grip. "She's going to scent you, and probably lick you," he warned.

The sheriff accepted this in stride, smiling as Miranda rubbed her furry little face up against his. "Scott, come over here."

Scott, who as much as he loved Stiles still wasn't entirely sure how he felt about his bro actually giving birth, moved forward cautiously, blinking when he caught sight of the pup in the sheriff's arms. "Oh my god, they're literal pups," he breathed, reaching out one hand for Miranda to sniff; she did, giving his fingers an experimental nibble before deciding she didn't like the taste of Scott and bumped her nose against his palm.

"We did tell you they would be," Stiles said, but he was smiling.

"Yeah, but I didn't think you meant actual _puppies_ ," Scott said, stroking Miranda tentatively; she was having none of that, though, squirming in the sheriff's hold to get to Scott. Derek chuckled.

"Here," he said. "Let Scott have Mira; you can take Di."

"Di?" the sheriff asked, letting Scott take Miranda from him.

"Diane," Stiles supplied.

Miranda happily climbed over Scott, who let her, a small smile on his face. "They are cute," he admitted, scratching Mira behind the ear. Miranda leaned into the touch, one hind leg starting to kick enthusiastically.

"She likes you," Derek said, looking at Stiles in an 'I told you so' way.

"And I should think so," Stiles offered, watching Scott carefully. "Who doesn't love their godfather?"

Scott looked at Stiles in surprise. "I-- you're sure?"

Derek nodded; they'd discussed this. "We're sure."

"If that's something you'd be okay with?" Stiles asked.

Scott glanced down at the pup in his arms, and then looked back to Stiles, nodding with a small, pleased smile on his face. "I'd like that. A lot."

Stiles' answering smile was much bigger. "You don't know how happy I am to hear that, man."

Scott went with his impulse, pulling Stiles in for a one-armed hug; Derek couldn't help but grin, happy for his mate. He glanced over at the sheriff, and raised an eyebrow. "What about you? Happy to be a grandparent?"

The sheriff looked up from Diane for the first time with a smile. "As happy as I was to become a father," he answered. "And more proud than you can imagine."

Derek smiled, nodding slightly; it was nice to see how far things had come since Derek's first meeting with Stiles.

* * *

It had taken a while, and a _lot_ of negotiation with Chris, but eventually the rest of Stiles's friends from the town were allowed to come out to meet the pups and catch up with Stiles, and then still more negotiation before Chris reluctantly allowed the sheriff to come to the pack house to spend more time with his son and grandchildren. It had been surprisingly easy(for the sheriff, at least) to adjust to having a not-completely-pack human around; the betas didn't really treat him like anything but pack considering he was Stiles's father. It was also a chance for Chris to come around, too, to see for himself that wolves weren't as bad as he'd been thinking. Derek had high hopes for the future between his pack and the town.

He also had high hopes for his own personal future; shortly after the twins turned one, Stiles's second heat was triggered. That one didn't take-- not that that was unexpected; Clay's journals had explained that this first heat after birth was merely a signal that the Omega's body was ready to bear pups once again. "What do you think?" Derek asked, pulling Stiles in close to him and nuzzling his neck. "Want to go through it all again?"

Stiles smiled, kissing Derek's cheek. "Do you?" he asked.

"Let's see," Derek mused. "Getting up at all hours of the night to fetch you random foodstuffs, listening to you complain about the various aches and pains and 'why doesn't werewolfiness work on pregnancy'... Yeah, I think I do."

Stiles grinned. "Me too," he admitted. "Crazy cravings and mood swings be damned."

Derek grinned, moving so that he was covering Stiles's body with his own. "Well then," he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. "Let's get started."


End file.
